


Second Chances

by Grovehove



Series: The Sheriff's Guide to being a Parent, AKA the Second Chances verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, Gen, Gerard Argent gets what's coming to him, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Stiles is Tony Stark's biological son. Good luck with that., The Author Regrets Nothing, The Sheriff takes names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 64,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grovehove/pseuds/Grovehove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obadiah Stane was a devious manipulative SOB who believed that Stark Industries was his and he always protected his own interests first. Nothing and no-one would stand in his way, especially not a defenceless unborn baby from a one night stand that Tony wouldn't even have remembered.</p><p>After his death, certain decisions finally come to light which have a ripple effect all the way from New York city to a small town in California called Beacon Hills.</p><p>This story is about first chances, second chances, even third chances and a kick ass small town Sheriff who will teach an Avenger that a father's love can be as strong and dangerous as any red and gold flying  armed suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

November 1995 Stark Enterprises, “So-Cal” California, the office of the Chief Operating Officer.

The calm voice was utterly indifferent as it reported that the project had been successfully completed but for Obadiah Stane satisfaction flooded his body and even brought a genuine smile to the cold eyes of that perpetually faux pleasant bearded face. One less troublesome obstacle in his path, big business was all about mitigating risk these days, and it had been an unacceptable risk. The cost of the solution was minimal compared to the potential future loss involved. Even if he had to hide the funding justification. The Research and Development budget was always a good choice to bury the sometimes less than transparent decisions made for the good of the Company.   
Hell, Stane would have paid for this himself out of his own money, it was that important, but he didn’t need to. Donna would deal with the payment in her usual efficient manner, if she hadn’t already.  
  
He must remember to tell her to get herself a spectacular Christmas present this year on his personal credit card. She deserved it.  
A weight was lifted from his shoulders and he was idly considering how he wanted to celebrate the resolution of his little problem, perhaps he could convince Tony to leave his labs and take the boy out for a fancy meal and drink and the delicious irony in that made him almost miss the fact that the voice had continued and uttered two further words.   
Two words which sent a spike of shocked disbelief through his gut.   
“Obadiah Stane”, the tone was calm and smooth but the words held a dark promise.   
  
God damn it, these transactions were always supposed to be anonymous and conducted through reliable secure third parties. Even if he always insisted on the final report being delivered verbally to a secure untraceable line by the Consultant managing the project.It gave Stane that final peace of mind that the job was completed to his requirements, he knew he was a controlling bastard, and that was the minimum that his nature allowed whilst still being the unseen hand pulling the strings. He had made his peace with that years ago.  
The two words were repeated with implacable patience as if the insolent bastard had all the time in the world. Sheer unadulterated rage flooded through Stane, how fucking dare he? Did he not know who he was talking to? He might have actually said the words aloud.

Smoothly with no inflection the calm voice sent shivers of ice through the enraged man’s brain. “I know exactly who you are Obadiah Stane”   
For long seconds unfamiliar and disconcerting fear kept the large man silent until Stane remembered his backbone and reacted with more bluster than confidence but Stane had manipulation bred into his DNA and was used to getting his own way when he was forceful enough. This was not going to be the exception. He drew a breath to centre himself and drawled icily  
“I assume this is some paltry attempt at blackmail, you should know that...” but he was interrupted again by that eerily calm and emotionless voice “Look down Obadiah Stane”.

Stane paused, disconcerted once more, then gave in to his curiosity and moved his head obediently downwards. To his horror he saw the small red dot dancing on his grey suit and white silk shirt before coming to a stop directly over his heart. He was a weapons manufacturer, he knew damn well what that red dot meant, ice trickled down his spine and for a second he found it hard to breathe. His heartbeat was pounding so loudly he almost missed the next sentence.

“The fee has been doubled Obadiah Stane” the lack of inflection in the indifferent voice was seriously adding to Stane’s stress levels. He suddenly realised that he had a lot to learn about the word menacing. But then Stane’s natural cunning and aggression asserted themselves. The flood of anger in his veins was a welcome relief to all that damn introspection. The bastard wouldn’t kill him, he hadn’t been paid all his money yet. This was just a pathetic attempt at a shakedown. Big mistake punk. Stane knew the importance of money, his greed for wealth and power was in his very own bone marrow. Everyone had their price.   
“Now see here, we had a deal” the big burly bald man blustered trying to ignore the red threat on his chest. Stane didn’t know how it was possible but that calm menacing voice became even colder   
“You knew the rules when you hired me Stane. You broke my rules. You lied to me and you broke the rules Obadiah Stane. No-one breaks my rules without retribution. You only have yourself to blame for what happens next. The fee is doubled because there were two in the equation not one. There will be recompense for flouting my rules Obadiah Stane one way or another”   
  
Stane sucked in a breath as the red dot suddenly appeared on the bridge of his nose. Rank fear pooled like undigested ice in his gut. But he drew a deep sustaining breath. He could do this, he could deal with this risk and still come out on top. He was Obadiah Stane. He didn’t lose.

“Alright, alright” he spat grudgingly, resentment running through his angry voice “it will be in the account in the morning”.   
That would gave him enough time for his people to trace the account and track down this bastard before having him wiped from the face of the earth for having the audacity to try to shake down Obadiah Stane.

“Obadiah Stane it will be in the specified account within the next thirty minutes” the words were soft and utterly implacable.   
What? No, the devious double crossing bastard wouldn’t get away with it. Stane couldn’t help himself, the guy was merely a tool for him to use. How dare he try to dictate terms to one of the most powerful men in the world? Uncharacteristic ill-considered words snarled from his mouth before he could stop himself.“Damn you to hell I’ll find you, you deal breaking bastard and … arrrg”   
  
The scream was piercing but short lived as Stane closed his mouth in shock and abject terror. His left arm dangled and blood dripped steadily to the floor, the bastard had shot him, he had actually shot him. He stared with horrified fascination at the speed that the obscenely red liquid spread against the pristine white silk of his shirt and must have uttered the words aloud without realising it because in the stark silence which fell after his scream had ended, a dry chuckle preceded that infuriating terrifying calm voice.

“It’s what I do best Obadiah Stane, which is why you hired me. Don’t ever think that you can hire me again. If you disobey me, I will find you and there will be no warning. And if you try to send anyone after me, your death will be a certainty and it will not be an easy one. I will make you suffer Stane. You have thirty minutes Obadiah Stane, thirty minutes and if I don’t get what I want I am coming for you”   
  
Then as If to reinforce his words, two more shots were fired, into the same arm, each bullet hole precisely lined up below the previous one. There was utter silence in the executive office, the cell phone dropped unnoticed to the ground, black plastic cracking and splintering in the pause before pain receptors flared with agony once more, the double doors to his office were flung open and as he met the frightened pale blue eyes of his personal assistant Obadiah Stane began to scream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John could feel the cold realisation and fierce determination seeping through his pores as he listened to his boy lie to him yet again. That painful bleak clarity subsumed the impotent self-pitying angry frustration that had lately come close to destroying his relationship with his son.   
> How had he allowed this to happen? What the hell had he done to his boy? Where was his loving mischievous young kid who couldn’t keep a secret to save his life? More importantly had never wanted to keep a secret from his adored father.   
> When had his son decided he couldn’t even trust his own father to look after him?

John Stilinski, Sheriff of Beacon Hills, stared at his teenage son. He saw his lips move and heard words leave his mouth but it was as if time slowed down and then reversed until the Déjà vu forced John back through time into the same man who had seen his wife for the first time in that crowded grubby Warsaw metro station. She had been on her way from her little apartment in the innocuous Imielin neighbourhood of the city to the Kabaty Forest, where she was working as a biologist in a private research laboratory.

Her sparkling green eyes and chocolate brown curls had seeped into his mind, heart and soul until John’s usual icy focus on the job had been subsumed by an overwhelming need to protect and cherish, and a rising fury at her for getting herself into the kind of trouble that triggered the call for his expensive unique problem solving skill set.  
   
Those emotions had once been familiar friends, loving, laughing and living with his beautiful brilliant infuriating wife and son.    
But he had buried them away when the shining star who had been his darling Claudia had left them both far too early and now for the first time in years he saw their boy Stiles with that old familiar cold clear clarity.   
The emotional lock down was over as if the sight of his beaten, battered and bruised son had blasted through the rusty deadlocked strongbox hiding his heart with explosive force.   
The Sheriff didn't know what it was about this particular time, he had seen Stiles distressed or in pain, he had seen his loneliness and his underlying lack of confidence, he had seen all the traumatic grief Stiles had suffered since his mother had died. But nothing had pierced the thin but durable shell that had enclosed his heart as the moment that Stiles had stepped through their front door in his dirty lacrosse uniform, bleeding and afraid as he tried to talk his way out of the fact that he had been professionally beaten and badly hurt.

He studied Stiles with the same objective clarity which had made him so successful in the old days and which he now barely used to enhance his skills as a law enforcement officer.  
The gaunt body, the purpling bruises, the cut lip, the bags under his eyes, the way Stiles held himself as if it hurt for him to breathe.    
The boy had been severely beaten and he was trying to fob off his father, trying to fob off a law-man, trying to fob off the actual god damn Sheriff of this god damn town with some pitiful weak ass story about a lacrosse team of teenage sore losers getting revenge.  
  
A weak smile trembled on Stiles’ pale lips and dread peered out of those lifeless young eyes which used to sparkle with the same intelligence, mischief and defiant amusement as his mother, even when the kid was hurt or lonely. Stiles had always used his excess energy and intellect as a shield, but that shield was cracking under the pressure of his pain and fear.  
  
John could feel the cold realisation and fierce determination seeping through his pores as he listened to his boy lie to him yet again. That painful bleak clarity subsumed the impotent self-pitying angry frustration that had lately come close to destroying his relationship with his son. How had he allowed this to happen?   
  
Since the discovery of Laura Hale’s body and finding Stiles at the crime scene alone, his boy had been lying or trying to hide the truth with varying degrees of ingenuity and success. Because John had chosen his work over his boy, he hadn’t called him on it properly. Yeah he had made some half-hearted pathetic attempts to get Stiles to come clean but if he had really and truly wanted to, Stiles wouldn’t have stood a chance any time he tried to lie to him.  Sure Stiles was a manipulative little shit but he didn’t just get that trait from his mother. Stiles had learnt most of his techniques from his old man.  
  
What the hell had he done to his boy? Where was his loving mischievous young kid who couldn’t keep a secret to save his life? More importantly had never wanted to keep a secret from his adored father. How had it come to this? His son was standing there in his blood mud smeared lacrosse outfit with tears, pain and unacknowledged deep seated fear in those beautiful whisky amber eyes that had not been passed down from his maternal side and Stiles was still not telling him the truth.  He was trying to lie to him again.   
When had his son decided he couldn’t even trust his own father to look after him anymore?

The Sheriff determinedly pushed away the anger that was creeping up through his veins as something else came to his attention. Why the hell was Stiles alone? In this state how had he dragged himself home alone? Where was Scott? Where the hell was Scott? He was supposed to be Stiles’ best friend. “Brother from another mother” as they had repeatedly told everyone as soon as the two boys had learnt the phrase when they were eight years of age.  
It occurred to the Sheriff that he hadn’t seen that kid recently even though Stiles was always claiming to be at his house. Where were any of those rag tag trouble making misfits his son was now hanging around with? Stiles might not have told him about his new friendship circle but the Sheriff had a veritable army of gossips, well-meaning and otherwise, in this town and the surrounding area who were more than happy to keep him informed on Stiles’s activities and who he had been seen with.   
  
The not so illustrious list had included Derek Hale, a former suspect in his own sister’s murder because of Scott and Stiles; Isaac Lahey, a former suspect in the suspicious death of his abusive father; that muscle bound boy mountain and just as silent as one Vernon Boyd and the jail-bait epileptic Erica Reyes; not forgetting Stiles long-term crush and touted bride the red head Ice queen Lydia Martin and the DA’s jock son Jackson Whittemore who had formerly obtained an injunction against Stiles after that stupid kidnapping prank with the official police vehicle.

How was it that only his son could have the kind of friends most people would call die hard enemies?

Things were going to change. Things had to change. He knew he had been too wrapped up in his own problems but when had his job become more important than Claudia’s child? All his and Claude’s plans and hopes for the future had been about keeping their boy safe and loved and happy. So he had failed his darling Claudia and her baby boy both. But that was over now.

He had a son to protect and cherish, so whether young Master Stilinski liked it or not, he was going to tell his father the truth and they were going to deal with it together.   
And God help the evil bastards who had turned his bright beautiful vibrant son into this pitiful skin and bone shell of himself.

John Stilinski reached out and took his frantic terrified hurt young son’s face in his hands. There was a sudden silence as Stiles’s desperate babbling stilled on a deep breath and his wary exhausted eyes widened first in shock, then with the kind of unwilling hope that just kicked his father straight in the gut. The sheer longing that threaded through the boy’s whispered uncertain “Dad” had John’s eyes prickling with tears of a bone deep shame and anger.

He drew a deep breath, his eyes refusing to leave his boy’s. He had to make this right, he had to restore the balance between them, he had to comfort and protect his child and he knew exactly how he was going to do it.

John smiled down at Stiles lovingly and his thumbs stroked the bottom of the boy’s earlobes the same way he used to when Stiles was very small and needed to calm down for a nap.

“It’s alright baby boy, Daddy’s got you, and Daddy’s going to make it all better” he murmured soothingly, unshakeable strength, conviction and confidence in the same words he had always used to this precious beautiful child from the time his boy had  been in diapers. It had been a long time coming but they both needed to be reminded who the actual parent was in this relationship.

Then he bent his head and found the one spot on his kid’s face that wasn’t bruised or bloodied to kiss him gently. A promise of protection, a promise of redemption, a reminder of love.   
The full body shudder that racked Stiles made him pull his boy into his arms despite the kid’s initial stubborn resistance.

He held on until his poor traumatised kid finally stopped fighting, both himself and his father and gave in, until Stiles leant forward to rest his head on his Dad’s shoulder. He held on whilst his kid began to weep, great gulping helpless sobs which racked his too thin battered young body. He held on when the crying stopped and whilst Stiles tried to wriggle free until his exhausted child finally stopped struggling and buried his face into his father’s neck with a helpless broken whispered sob   
“I can’t lose you too Dad, I can’t, I just can’t but I don’t know what to do any more I just don’t know what to do, help me Daddy”, and once more the tears fell and soaked into the collar of his uniform.

Grim satisfaction and relief flooded through him at the quiet despairing words, he had something to work with now, but the fact that Stiles had been trying to protect him by keeping silent burned like acid in his stomach.

Oh God Claude what had he done to their baby boy? Enough now, the boy had suffered enough. John rocked his son gently as it seemed like the tears were tearing him apart.

The safety, health and well-being of Genim Mariusz Stilinski was his top priority again, as it had been in the beginning, as it should have been after their precious Claude died but he had let their child down because of his own selfish blind grief. By God he wasn’t making that mistake any more. 

Sheriff John Stilinski was going to fucking bury the bastards who had done this to his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff is in the story. I repeat the Sheriff is in the Story. Have another chapter because the Sheriff is now in the story and I was too excited to wait. The Sheriff is going to "avenge" so many wrongs... see what I did there. Yes pathetically I do laugh at my own jokes... Ok sleep deprivation is now kicking in but ..... the Sheriff.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I did, I really did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dramatic New York skyline was outlined in glorious early morning sunshine and shadow through the floor to ceiling wall of windows but it went unnoticed as the CEO of Stark Industries Pepper Potts sat in her amazingly luxurious penthouse office. Impeccably dressed as usual in one of her outrageously expensive beautiful suits, although her Louboutin heels had been discarded and were lying like tastefully placed modern art under her crystal cut glass desk, the focus of her attention was not the surreal ethereal view.   
> Instead she stared at the bundle of old papers lying scattered across the desk in total disbelief. She had read through them twice already and still the damning words hadn’t changed. How in the name of God had it come to this?

Present Day New York City. Stark Industries CEO Offices.

The dramatic New York skyline was outlined in glorious early morning sunshine and shadow through the floor to ceiling wall of windows but it went unnoticed as the CEO of Stark Industries Pepper Potts sat in her amazingly luxurious penthouse office. Impeccably dressed as usual in one of her outrageously expensive beautiful suits, although her Louboutin heels had been discarded and were lying like tastefully placed modern art under her crystal cut glass desk, the focus of her attention was not the surreally ethereal view.   
Instead she stared at the bundle of old papers lying scattered across the desk in total disbelief. She had read through them twice already and still the damning words hadn’t changed. How in the name of God had it come to this?

The unexpected letter from the Lawyers for the estate of the late Donna Whitney, executive personal assistant to Obadiah Stane for over twenty years until his fall from grace at Tony’s hands had arrived a month ago. Pepper had deliberately ignored it. There was no way she was going to waste her time, energy or breathe on that loathsome creature.  
Pepper had utterly despised the woman and there was a white hot ball of fury in the pit of her stomach every time she had the misfortune to remember she had even existed.  
Donna Whitney had had the luck of the Devil, and Pepper sincerely hoped the woman was now reaping the benefits of that acquaintanceship with the very same being whilst she deep fried in Hell on a roasting spit.  
  
Whitney had been pardoned from any wrong doing, or criminal activity, all the while loudly claiming she hadn’t known what Stane was up to, because she had been suffering from a terminal illness.   
Tony bless his idiotic chivalrous hide, hadn’t wanted to pursue her for the sorely deserved justice but Pepper had. Pepper had hated that woman with a bone deep, soul searing passion for what Stane had done to Tony, and she knew damn well Donna would have known what he was doing. No way could Stane have hidden his plans from the sharp tongued, highly intelligent and loyal stone cold heartless bitch who had worked at his side for that length of time.   
So no Pepper couldn’t have cared less about the letter from that foul female’s estate and it was only the fact that the senior partner of the same prestigious law firm had taken the unusual measure of cornering her at a fund raising event to request that she deal with it which had even given her pause for thought.   
It hadn’t lasted long enough to deter Pepper from sending her away with a flea in her ear. Then the damn opportunist woman had actually had the damn cheek to hand the damn bundle of papers to Happy for Pepper to review in the damn car on her way home.

But damn it, the Lawyer’s odd and determined actions had intrigued Pepper. She had almost seemed unnerved about the whole thing which had caused Pepper to pause as that particular senior partner had made her the reputation on being utterly ruthless and unflappable.  
It had preyed on Pepper’s mind, she hated not having all the facts. So she had finally given in to her unwilling curiosity.   
Now damn it, now she wished she had told Happy to dump the damn package in the damn river when he had driven her home. Pollution laws be damned.

Her hand was tightly clenched around the cup as she brought it to her lips, and she grimaced at the taste of the tepid coffee but swallowed it anyway. Her mouth was so dry, she needed the liquid even if it was only a moment’s distraction for her frantic thoughts.   
She placed the delicate little cup carefully back on the desk as the urge to smash something grew exponentially.  She was Virginia Pepper Potts and she refused to allow violence a foothold in her deliberations.  
  
She raised her chin in that dangerous determined gesture which could even send the infamous and outrageous Tony Stark scurrying to hide if he was on the receiving end and forced herself to reread through the paperwork, her green eyes glinting with barely suppressed rage, one more time to ensure that she hadn’t missed anything.   
She was determined that she was not going to miss any implications of this utter car crash. She needed to know the potential for anything which could come back to bite them on the ass.  
All the while sheer unadulterated fury grew within her until she felt she would be able to give Dr Bruce Banner a run for his money.   
Her overriding concern was Tony. It would always be Tony. How in hell was she going to be able to explain this to him? The more she read, the deeper her outrage and sheer vicious need to damage something grew. If that horror Obadiah Stane hadn’t been already dead she would kill him herself. Hell she wanted to ask Thor to resurrect the evil asshole so she could kill him repeatedly, then sic Natasha onto what was left of him before giving the dregs to the Hulk to pound to jelly so that Hawkeye could pin the remains to her office wall with his arrows as a very public warning to any and all who thought to harm her beloved best friend Anthony Edward Stark ever again.

For one of the few times in her life she wasn’t sure about the best way to deal with the knowledge contained in the bland innocuous innocent looking files. This particular situation was so far out of the realms of her comfort zone that her agile, intelligent, savvy fertile mind just came to a stuttering halt.  
  
The Company had long ago instigated protocols to deal with the basics of this type of situation. Those protocols had been put in place by Howard Stark at the start of his own brilliant rise to infamy and incredible wealth and had been adapted for more modern times during Tony’s reign but they were there. Because Tony was Tony, and Tony was Anthony Edward Stark and greedy fraudulent assholes always thought they could try the oldest con in the book to weasel money out of him or the company whichever they thought to try to blackmail first.   
But that type of problem had strangely almost disappeared since the time that Tony had become surrogate pack mom to the rest of the Avengers. There had even been articles in the press about his changed behaviour citing everyone from celebrity psychiatrists to strippers which had highly amused the goateed infuriating little shit, (Tony had even framed his favourite one, the sentimental hogwash from the Las Vegas stripper with the proverbial “heart of gold”, and sent copies to Cap, Fury and Natasha with a pouting emoticon asking if this meant that he was virgin now) whilst causing SI’s PR department to nearly resign en mass.  
  
Now this, this “situation” was out there floating around in the stratosphere where if they weren’t careful, it could fall back to earth as debris and do some serious collateral damage.  
Pepper was ruthlessly honest with herself, she could even admit that there might be some residual resentment and envy roused by the circumstances, because once it might have been… she stopped that thought right in its tracks.   
She had made the right decision and they were both better off for it. No second guessing herself, that way led to unmitigated disaster, instead she would deal with this nasty situation for her darling Tony. Although she didn’t know how to minimise the personal risk to Tony, because no matter what he might say, this was going to hurt him like hell, and it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.   
  
Then they would have to deal with the fall out in the public arena. It was a personal and professional publicity nightmare, and that was without even getting started on the death threats, kidnapping attempts, and downright bare faced toadying they would all have to endure.   
She didn’t know how to make this better for him. It was damage limitation pure and simple, and he was going to be so hurt even if he denied it and played his usual role of indifferent ass-hole jester and devil may care play boy rich man.   
  
Dear God, he had lost so many precious years already, and the legalities alone were an absolute nightmare, what with the high probability that they would have to deal with it outside of the States and their normal sphere of influence.   
Tony paid his legal team a king’s ransom for their skills, which they bloody earned when one of Tony’s damn incidents, accidents or sheer folly came back to bite them all on the backside.    
But what was she going to do? For once in her long and mostly successful career of dealing with Tony’s shit, her brain failed completely to come up with an options appraisal and risk assessment which would allow her to determine the correct course of action within minutes. Because this wasn’t really Tony’s shit. This whole wicked situation had been brought about by the deceased Obadiah Stane and his greedy megalomaniac tendencies.   
She knew there were protocols in place but she had the horrible feeling that they might actually make the situation worse. It physically hurt to think about it. She rubbed unconsciously at her chest as if to ease the phantom ache.

She shook herself sternly, she wasn’t going to be defeatist. There was always a way and she would damn well ensure that Tony was protected and that he would get what he needed from this major clusterfuck, that everything was slotted into place to make it easy for him to get what he wanted once he decided what that was, before she had to man up and tell him about it.

And then there was the Captain, oh dear lord how was this going to impact on the Avengers initiative? God she would have to head Fury off at the pass, he couldn’t be allowed to try to control Tony with this. And that twisty conniving double dealing manipulative son of a bitch would definitely try. She would utterly destroy the devious bastard if he made the attempt. At least there was one way of making sure Fury didn’t step out of line. If Shield knew that she knew, the leather clad pirate would think twice about doing anything with the knowledge because she would pull the damn plug on every piece of Stark technology those cheapskates had appropriated and illegally copied…

Pepper pulled all the paperwork back together and tucked it carefully back into the file. She picked up some dull metal objects that had also been included in the file and closed her hand around them as she pressed a particular button on her desk phone.

“Agent Coulson please, this is Pepper Potts” her voice was steady, cool and calm as always. There was a pause and she waited patiently. Now she had determined on a course of action she felt better. As soon as she heard the sound of the cheery morning greeting she interrupted without any qualms.

“Good morning Phil, how would you like to join me in a delicious coffee and morning muffin in that sweet little place near the park? Excellent I will see you there in half an hour”. She didn’t even give him any time to utter anything other than the customary morning greetings and taking his agreement as a given she rang off. If nothing else, Phil Coulson would come out of courtesy for their odd little friendship, but she knew that the abrupt conversation would peak his curiosity and he wouldn’t be able to resist anyway.

When the phone disconnected, Pepper spoke aloud in the seemingly empty office, “Jarvis, I need privacy mode for the next three hours and I also need you to run a confidential search for the following names, Dr Maya Hansen, full name Maya Claudia Hansen, born in the 1970’s in Oregon. She apparently met Tony at a conference in Bern in late 1994. Last known whereabouts was an research facility owned by the think tank AIM in Poland in the late nineties. Also an assassin for hire known as Scimitar. Sometimes used the alias of John Carlton or Johnny Cage. Last heard of near the company offices in California again in November 1995. I want them found Jarvis but the search is not to be documented or have an audit trail on any SI database”.   
  
There was a strange tinkling noise as Pepper played with some objects in her hand. Then there was a considering pause, she opened her right hand and stared down at three spent bullets she was holding and then Pepper’s voice became harder. “And any close living relative to either of them”

The calm British voice of the AI answered her in the affirmative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The magnificent Pepper Potts people... How are we enjoying it so far?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present day. Beacon Hills Hospital. Emergency Room  
> The Sheriff waited patiently whilst Melissa McCall had checked out Stiles’ injuries in the trauma room. John had refused to leave his boy’s side and had caught the appalled realisation on the face of the mother of his son’s suddenly elusive best friend. Caught the look and stored it away in the sure and certain knowledge that he and Scott’s Mom would be having a little chat in the not too distant future.

Present day. Beacon Hills Hospital. Emergency Room

The Sheriff waited patiently whilst Melissa McCall had checked out Stiles’ injuries in the trauma room. John had refused to leave his boy’s side and had caught the appalled realisation on the face of the mother of his son’s suddenly elusive best friend. Caught the look and stored it away in the sure and certain knowledge that he and Scott’s Mom would be having a little chat in the not too distant future. Right now though, he had his boy to take care of.

After Melissa had left the room to get some strong medication, he eyed his silent dazed son who was staring down at the tiled floor as if his very life depended on it. It suddenly came home to John how silent his son had become over the last few months. It was as if his strings had been cut and he was only his "normal" self when he was in public. Silence and Stiles were not compatible, they did not exist in the same universe. That realisation was the last nail in the coffin of the kid’s independence until this mess was dealt with and Stiles was safe and happy again.  A small smirk crossed the Sheriff’s calm face, as he reviewed scenarios and finally decided his course of action.

John pulled out his cell phone and rang the station. The sound of the call raised Stiles head and faint curiosity lit that sorely battered and bruised pale young face. Shit, John just wanted to cut and run and set up somewhere safe with the boy but they had been settled here too long. There would be too many questions asked, so he would have to deal with the situation himself.

“Mills, I am taking a few days leave. My boy has been hurt, you can still reach me by cell if you need me and by need I mean it had better be the actual apocalypse starting, do I make myself clear Mills? My priority for the next three days is Stiles”

John was watching Stiles as he spoke clearly to the Deputy, and was amused to see the unhidden panic cross his boy’s frantic face before he forced it away again. Damn stubborn ass kid actually still thought he had a chance to keep things hidden from his father but John just smiled at him when Stiles tried to protest and wheedle his way out of the situation “Daaaad, seriously dude you don’t need to babysit me, you have got much more important things to worry about, I am fine…”  
  
And didn’t that comment just piss John Stilinski off righteously and send shame flooding through his gut. There was nothing more important than his son and it was way past time that Stiles realised that.  
His boy’s voice was getting desperate and John couldn’t resist, a little gentle but implacable teasing was in order, the kid had to begin to understand and come to terms with the fact that he no longer had the choice to hide anything from his father.  
Genim Mariusz Stilinski was going on a pretty damn steep learning curve with regards to just how ruthless and single minded his old man could be when he decided something needed to happen. John reached forwarded with his free hand and rubbed gently at the boy’s nearest earlobe “Shush little boy, Daddy’s talking”.  
John could barely restrain his laughter at Stiles’s shocked disbelief, then the adorable flush of embarrassed red that hit his cheeks, and the disturbed confusion in those big amber eyes but damn did it shut the kid up until they finally were back in the cruiser and on their way home. A couple of times, he had looked at his father, opened his mouth like a cute baby guppy and closed it again without even a word. John kindly refused to laugh outright at him. 

Despite the fact that Stiles was on the really good pain killers and even his teeth were numb, which was amazing by the way and he could happily feel like this until the bruises healed, but knowing his damn luck that wasn’t going to happen and the bad ass beating he had taken off that psycho sick old dude Principal and prick Gerard Argent was going to hurt like a bitch thing that hurts for the rest of his damn life, there was something else or rather someone else who was worrying Stile more at the moment. His Dad. His old man. The Sheriff called Daddio. His Pops, his Da, his freaking out of character Pater. His Dad wasn’t reacting, to anything, nothing, nada, zilch.  
It was freaking creepy. Dad just kept smiling at him, the way Stiles remembered him smiling from when he was really little. When his Mom was alive, before she got ill, before the shit fest their life had become.  
  
Stiles kept shooting his father disturbed little glances, his quick and inventive brain trying to discover what was going on, because his Dad had been behaving really oddly. No shouting, no disappointed expressions, no attempt at questions, no whos or hows or whys or whats or wherefores, just this really weird amused but hard look in his eyes that Stiles couldn’t ever remember seeing but was beginning to freak him out, like his Dad knew things that he shouldn’t and was going to find out the rest without even needing to ask Stiles.  
Fuck a flying duck, he was so screwed. No. He couldn’t let anything happen to his Dad, he would play the dutiful and obedient son for a few days until he could at least walk without his own ribs wanting to stab him and then find out what Derek and his pack knew about Gerard Argent and the freaking green lizard monster. He was sure that creepy guy Matt was stuck in the middle of all this as well.

He was so tired of this shit, he was barely sleeping, worrying about everything and trying to see the bigger picture, trying to research, to find answers that would keep them all alive and protect his damn father. He was lying to his Dad, trying to protect him, trying to cover Scott’s back when the dumbass went and made a deal with that Bastard the gruesome grandfather from hell behind Derek’s back, then having to deal with the master of monosyllables Derek Hale himself, and his so called normal teenage life, school, lacrosse, video games, all that had gone to hell in a hand basket. Grades what freaking grades?

Stiles didn’t know what to do any more but at least the painkillers were kicking in so he literally didn’t have the brain capacity to worry about anything and they were the good shit, the really good shit so for one night at least he might get some decent sleep. He had gone upstairs to change out of his disgusting dirty blood stained lacrosse uniform into his sleeping pants and a t-shirt because his Dad had not allowed him to even think about getting rid of the evidence before they went to the hospital. What he wouldn't give for a shower right now but the way his body was protesting he knew he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of even getting into the shower stall. Getting his change of clothes on had been a trial worthy of Hercules. So Stiles had just looked at his bed and decided that being horizontal was the next best thing to a shower, he would rest for five minutes before he went down to judge the calorific and taste to cholesterol saving value of the Pizza his Dad had the forethought (sneakiness) to order from the cruiser on their way home. 

John Stilinski pulled the bed covers up and gently tucked Stiles in as he looked down at the sleeping exhausted face of his battered and bruised son. He knew the kid wasn’t going to be waking up before the morning. John had checked with Melissa McCall before they left about how to make sure Stiles had a good night’s rest despite the kid’s attempts otherwise. He’d have preferred for Stiles to have eaten something but the exhaustion had been too strong, and he would be better off sleeping.

Now his kid was safely tucked into bed and out of John’s way for the next few hours, he could take the opportunity to begin the process of protecting his boy. He had some things to deal with before Stiles was awake and could finally answer his questions. But first he needed to pay a visit to that innocuous little lock-up that not even his darling Claudia knew he had set up when they first moved to Beacon Hills.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek Hale saw the blue flashing light in his mirror and heaved an irritated sigh. Erica Reyes turned her head and saw the patrol car behind them. “Damn it Derek we don’t have time to stop” she hissed panic stricken “the others are already there” she continued as Derek was pulling the Camaro to a stop on the quiet road leading to the Preserve.  
> “Shut up Erica” he growled “It won’t take long and what do you expect me to do, try and outrun a Patrol car, don’t be stupid and keep quiet” he finished abruptly as he recognised the uniformed figure who exited the Patrol car, straightened his hat and sunglasses in the pale evening light, then head with determination towards the stationary car, one hand hovering over his holster. What the hell?

Derek Hale saw the blue flashing light in his mirror and heaved an irritated sigh. Erica Reyes turned her head and saw the patrol car behind them. “Damn it Derek we don’t have time to stop” she hissed panic stricken “the others are already there” she continued as Derek was pulling the Camaro to a stop on the quiet road leading to the Preserve.  
“Shut up Erica” he growled “It won’t take long and what do you expect me to do for Christ sake? Try and outrun a Patrol car? Don’t be stupid and keep quiet” he finished abruptly as he recognised the uniformed figure who exited the Patrol car, straightened his hat and sunglasses, then head with determination towards the stationary car, one hand hovering over his holster. What the hell?

Derek rolled down his window and saw his own reflection mirrored in the sunglasses as he smiled with charm and offered “I’m sorry Sheriff what did I do? I didn’t think I was speeding”

“Good evening Mr Hale, can you step out of the vehicle and bring your paperwork with you please?” The Sheriff watched a small frown cross Hale’s face but it was quickly smoothed over with a quick and politely obedient “Yes Sir, of course” and the younger man eased his way out of the black car. John dipped his head once more to the window and stared straight at the blonde teenager sitting there trying not to show how anxious she was.  
“Miss Reyes, it is Erica Reyes isn't it? Please also exit the vehicle and come to stand beside Mr Hale” he ordered calmly.

“ Sheriff?” Hale began to query in that oddly high pitched voice of his but the Sheriff didn’t acknowledge him, merely held out his hand for the documents and then began to walk around the car. Derek watched him with an increasing level of concern and the first stirrings of anger. He didn’t understand what was going on. He couldn’t get anything from the guy. The Sheriff’s scent was almost neutral as if he had blocked off all his emotions.  His heart rate was completely calm but for some odd reason Derek began to feel threatened. How the hell was the Sheriff doing that?  
He threw a quick glance at his Beta who was not even trying to hide her apprehension and flashed his red eyes at her before she did something stupid that they wouldn't be able to come back from. Derek watched the man with helpless angry fascination.   
The Sheriff at one point even seemed to be checking the rims on his tyres and then he strolled as if he had all the time in the world back to stand a little way from them as he slowly and thoroughly read through the paperwork, making an annoying humming sound underneath his breath.

“You keep your vehicle in very good condition Mr Hale” the Sheriff began pleasantly, still not looking at him “If I remember correctly, it was your father’s car wasn’t it? It was his pride and joy, well next to his kids” The Sheriff’s head came up and that unreadable face stared straight at Derek. “I am sure he would be very proud of the way you are looking after this beautiful machine but would he be as proud of you these days I wonder?”

Derek stared at him firstly in disbelief, at the blatant attempt to rile him by a man who had only ever treated him with courtesy and an almost distant kind of empathy when it came to mentioning his dead family, then shock and rage quickly crossed his face wiping off any attempt at pleasantry. Derek didn’t even realise he was growling sub vocally as he took an involuntary step towards the impassive Sheriff. It was Erica’s hand gripping his forearm and the digging in of nails that were more like claws that brought him back to himself and he realised that the Sheriff hadn’t moved or showed any fear, as if Derek was being evaluated and assessed on his strengths and weaknesses as an opponent. His wolf and his human side couldn't understand what was going on. What the hell?

The Sheriff’s hand had returned to hovering over his service pistol as he ordered calmly. “Please turn around and lean against the vehicle the pair of you, I have justifiable reason for a roadside search since you saw fit to threaten an officer of the law. Spread your legs and keep your arms and hands in my line of sight at all times”

Derek shrugs off Erica’s hand and asks coldly “Why did you stop us Sheriff, it can’t have been to reminisce about my family? We do have some place to be right now”

The Sheriff’s gaze raked over the two people standing before him, “All in good time Mr Hale, please assume the position unless you wish me to take you straight in for questioning”

The tension in Hale’s shoulders was obvious but he did as he was told, one glance from Hale was enough to convince the bewildered and horrified girl to quickly assume the same position too.

Stilinski was quick but thorough with Derek, even checking under the collar of his leather jacket and the soles of his boots. When he turned to the girl and saw her tremble, heard the hitch in her breath, he asked her calmly. “Miss Reyes, do you have anything on your person that I need to know about”   
“No Sir” she almost whispered the answer, the glowering teenage defiance fleeing before the thought of being searched.   
The Sheriff rested a parental hand on her shoulder and almost absent mindedly tidied the blonde locks which were caught in her jacket collar, before continuing in a kinder but no less implacable voice.  
“I am not going to search you here Miss Reyes but if you don’t answer me truthfully and to the best of your ability, I will take you back to the station where one of my female Deputies will search you and then I will contact your parents to collect you, are we clear?”

“Yes Sir, thank you” Erica breathed out in relief, as the Sheriff gently turned her around to face him again, ignoring the glower on Hale’s face as he also changed position.

“Now there are two matters I want to bring to your attention Mr Hale, and get your opinion on them. But lets deal firstly with young Miss Reyes here. I know she is the same age as my son, and I have to ask why a twenty three year old man has an under age girl in his car at this time of the evening. Do her Parents know she is out with you on a school night, alone driving towards the Preserve? Now you see son, there’s enough circumstantial evidence here for me to pull you in for questioning regarding the statutory rape of a minor”

There was a stunned pause but Erica hurriedly interrupted before her Alpha lost his temper completely and ripped the man’s throat out with his teeth. “No Sheriff, Derek kindly gave me a lift to collect my boyfriend, his car broke down and he can’t afford a tow truck”

The Sheriff stared at her until she began to fidget in her place and moved closer towards Hale. “Well now that’s mighty kind of Mr Hale here Erica, I can call you Erica can’t I? Your boyfriend, remind me Erica now would that be Vernon Boyd or Isaac Lahey? As I recall neither of those two young men have their own car, so help me out here honey”

Derek stiffened, how the hell did the Sheriff know about Boyd and Isaac? What the hell was all this about? Jesus his wolf was not taking this lying down, he wanted to attack the infuriating man but Derek forced the wolf to obey. There was too much at stake and the Sheriff would have already called it in. If the Sheriff disappeared then the cops would come knocking on his door first. There was also the fact that this was Stiles' father, the infuriating little human shit who had managed to save Derek's ass too many times now. He damn well couldn't hurt the man or Stiles would flail him to death or use his talking as a sound weapon of mass destruction. 

Erica stuck out her chin defiantly, “Boyd borrowed his Mom's car and Derek offered to try to fix it before she found out.”

There was a pause just long enough to make the teenager squirm before the Sheriff responded, one eyebrow higher than his sunglasses. “That sounds a perfectly reasonable and acceptable justification for having an under age teenage girl in the car with you Mr Hale, no holes you could drive a semi through at all” the Sheriff’s voice was as dry as a desert “Now let’s talk about Stiles”

The change of subject caught the two werewolves totally unaware and the Sheriff knew it.

“Stiles?” Erica muttered hesitantly as she looked anxiously between her tense Alpha and the impassive Sheriff.

“Yes Erica, my son Stiles, you know the clever thin pale kid who never stops moving and wouldn't know what to do with silence if it bit him on the ass, that Stiles, the one you have shared your educational career with young lady and the one who accused you of murder Mr Hale.”   
For all the Sheriff’s calm demeanour the two wolves could feel the edge of dangerous impatience in the man’s tone.

Derek ignored the words as an irrelevance “What about Stiles?”

“I have just brought him back from the hospital. He disappeared after last night’s lacrosse match. Then he does come home looking as if he had lost a fight with the Hulk. He had been badly beaten. As I know you were at the same game Mr Hale, I was hoping you would be able to assist me with my investigation into the assault on my son” and the smile that crossed the Sheriff’s face was disturbingly cold and viciously intent.   
Erica suddenly felt like prey for the first time since she had been gifted the bite. Not even that psychotic geriatric and his hunters had made her feel this kind of anxiety. Pain and fear yes, but there was something disturbingly powerful about the Sheriff that she couldn’t name. She wanted to whimper and crawl behind her Alpha.

Derek had stiffened with shock, beaten, Stiles had been beaten, what the hell? Who? And why? He was just a human kid, a mouthy sarcastic nosey human kid but still just a kid.

He looked at the Sheriff, and slowly held out his hands turning them over so that the man could see there were no bruises to indicate that he may have hit anyone.  He pre-empted any further questions by looking straight at the man and being as open as possible.   
God damn it, why did the guy have to be wearing shades. He needed to see the man’s eyes since he couldn’t get anything off him from his heartbeat to his scent. “I didn’t know Stiles had been hurt Sheriff, I swear and I didn’t do it, even if you think I have motive, I didn’t hurt Stiles”

Once again the Sheriff paused. Derek could appreciate the way he was messing with their minds but he couldn't fully fight off the effects.The length of time the Sheriff just stood there and stared at him without responding nearly had Derek fidget like a naughty little kid, he could feel Erica’s anxiety ramp up with every second.

Finally the Sheriff reached up and took off his sunglasses, then said calmly “Very well Mr Hale, I will let you go on your way. Of course if you do happen to come across any information about the assault I am sure you will notify me won’t you?”

Derek didn’t realise he had been holding his breath until those hard blue eyes looked away from him and  focused on Erica, who took a tiny step closer to the protection of her Alpha without realising it.

“Erica I will be driving by your parents’ house at 10.30 tonight. If I don’t see you at the door I will be stopping and having a conversation with them about their daughter’s whereabouts and company this evening and then setting her curfew on a school night, are we clear Honey?” The Sheriff’s pleasant voice was stern and Erica nodded her head hastily as she quickly agreed.

The Sheriff moved passed them to go back to the cruiser, “You have a good evening now Mr Hales and Miss Reyes and make sure you drive safely”

Derek didn’t know why he said it but before he could stop himself he blurted “Derek Sir, call me Derek”

The Sheriff paused and looked back at Derek over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised so that it was visible over the shades, then he just nodded and continued and got into the patrol car.

The Sheriff watched with amusement as the Camaro pulled away as if it was driven by a timid half blind old lady, then opened the glove compartment and switched on the little device he had obtained from his lock-up and left in there earlier.

Erica’s voice came through loud and clear “It was Gerard Argent who hurt Stiles Derek, that insane old man beat Stiles whilst Boyd and I were strung up with that electrical wire.”

The Sheriff face changed from amusement to grim satisfaction as he switched off the audio on the recording device. He would listen to the rest later, he was sure the information from the bugs he had attached to both Hale and Reyes and to that ridiculous black muscle car would be a goldmine but for now, he had a name. He had a target. Gerard Argent, the High school principal and patriarch of the Argent Family. The Argent family were going to get a lesson in the true meaning of the word consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my favourite chapter so far. Sneaky sneaky Sheriff.   
> Let me know what you think? xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Argent was a hard man who knew how to take the difficult decisions that other people couldn't or wouldn't take and then lived with the outcome of those decisions. He had done it for all of his life. He allowed few things or people to deter him from what he knew deep in his bones was the right course of action.

Derek’s brain was racing. The flood of adrenaline after the interaction with the Sheriff was making it hard to restrain his wolf. The Sheriff had worried him. Just how much did he know? Derek didn’t think that Stiles would have told him anything. Stiles was too concerned with keeping the man safe. Christ knew why, the Sheriff was definitely fifty shades over scary and heading towards absolutely fucking terrifying. Then Derek remembered something else and he erupted with fury “Why the hell didn’t you tell me Stiles had been there with the pair of you Erica?”

The blonde head dipped submissively at the anger in her Alpha’s voice as she admitted with shame “Honest to God Derek, with everything that happened, we..we just didn’t think about it, it’s like he wasn’t even on our radar, even though we watched what that old bastard did to him”  
Derek could hear her heartbeat, she wasn’t lying but he wasn’t impressed. He growled at her in disapproval and disappointment. When would these idiot kids actually understand what being part of a pack and submitting to an Alpha actually meant? He refused to consider that maybe he should be doing more to help them.  
  
“I need to know everything Erica, if I hope to make sure that if our pack gets out of this alive. So you better not hold back any more”  
The or else in his voice was loud and clear and Erica flinched and curled up into herself for a few seconds before she straightened up and tilted her neck at her Alpha in the classic submission pose. He let her stay like that for several uncomfortable seconds before giving a soft rumble of approval. Her shoulders slumped with relief and she brushed a shaking hand quickly across her eyes. He could smell the salt in her quiet tears but ignored it as he heard her heartbeat calm down until something, some thought set her off again.

Erica turned her head away for a second to look out at the growing dusk and then almost whispered “Allison, she was there too. She just stood and watched. It was like looking at that bitch Kate all over again. She just didn’t care Derek. That family are fucking insane. The only one who is not completely nuts is Chris Argent, but that’s debatable, you know he roughed Stiles up to try to frighten him enough to get him to abandon Scott because he knows Scott is a werewolf. Chris got us out but only at because he waved his gun in the old psycho’s face.”

Derek’s voice was cold but with an underlying weariness as he responded “They all still blame me for biting Allison’s mother”

“Damn it Derek, you did it to save Scott, the ungrateful crooked jawed little douchenozzle.”

Some of Erica’s normal badass attitude returned with the outburst. There was a surprised huff of breath as if Derek Hale was trying to hold back his laughter. “She was killing him with that wolfsbane and no one had seen fit to inform Princess Argent about her murderous bitch of a Mom.” There was a hesitant pause as if Erica wasn’t sure if she should say what she obviously so wanted to blurt out to the Alpha. “Derek” she swallowed heavily, and he could smell her distress and confusion. “I heard Gerard tell Chris that he had to kill Allison’s Mom because she was now a Monster. That she was a thing, a cocoon waiting to hatch”

The snarl that ripped from his throat was instinctive. He hadn’t meant to bite Victoria Argent, only protect that idiot kid but by god he had, and she was now one of his wolves. She was his responsibility, just as much as these idiot teenagers. He would be the one to deal with her. No one else had the right to kill her.

Erica looked at him warily “I hate their fucking guts Derek, I would happily rip their throats out in a fight even baby bitch Allison but they are going to kill Momma mega bitch just because she was bitten before she has even proved she would be a problem, just because they think we are animals and I don’t know how to handle that” she confessed in distress.

Something hardened in Derek’s face as he ignored her last comment and merely grunted “We need to get to the others” 

 

Melissa McCall was exhausted, the last two night-shifts had been horrible, dealing with Scott’s little furry problem and then seeing the state of poor Stiles when his father brought him in. It was all too much, she had seen the Sheriff looking at her as if she knew something and she wasn’t sure how the hell she was going to deal with that conversation because she knew John would start looking for answers soon, but right now she was too damn tired to give it any more thought, she needed to sleep. A shower and then bed, she thought longingly as she opened her front door and made her way through the living room towards the stairs and her room. She didn’t bother putting on the lights, she knew Scott wasn’t home, he would be with that awful Hale Man again, or that self centred little Argent madam, so she didn’t see the figure sitting in one of the chairs near the sofa.  It was the sudden light from the small table lamp next to the arm chair which startled her into focusing on the room. Her bag dropped to the floor unheeded and the terrified scream which left her throat would have woken the neighbours if she had any that lived close enough to hear as the first thing she saw was an intruder sitting in her living room. Oh God she had left her baseball bat in her bedroom.

Her scream was abruptly cut off as indignant outrage took the place of the initial startled fear when she recognised her unannounced visitor.  As she opened her mouth to berate the person sitting in her comfiest chair, her breath was cut off again and her brain came to a stuttering halt by the calm question that was thrown at her

“So Mel, how long has Scott been a Werewolf?”

 

Chris Argent was a hard man who knew how to take the difficult decisions that other people couldn't or wouldn't and then live with the outcome of those decisions. He had done it for all of his life. He allowed few things or people to deter him from what he knew deep in his bones was the right course of action but this, this nightmare because that Alpha had bitten her. It was killing him from the inside. He could feel his internal organs liquefying in horror at what was supposed to happen.    
He knew what they had to do, he didn’t need his god-damn father telling him. Victoria, his beautiful Tory herself wanted it but how could he do this. She was his wife, the mother of his child, his lover, his friend for the love of God how could he do this, to her, to Allison, to himself.  
Victoria didn’t want to live as a werewolf, she didn’t want to take the chance that she could hurt her husband or daughter, she didn’t want to be one of those disgusting animals. He dropped his head into one hand, the other resting against the mantle of the fireplace, where he had been standing staring desperately at the family pictures which adorned it. Merciful god how was he going to do this. Tory had said that they should wait until Ally was asleep, that they would make it look like suicide. His body dropped forward and he braced himself on his knees as the horror of the thought, the knowledge of what they were going to do, of how this family was going to be destroyed because of that stinking animal.

He heard the doorbell ring and keep on ringing, and Allison’s steps running down the staircase. He straightened and took a few deep breaths to centre himself, then patted at his hair where he could see in the reflection of the glass in the picture frames that his hair was on end from when he had run his fingers through it in desperation. He knew damn well he couldn’t do anything about how haggard he looked at the moment.  
The doorbell continued to chime until he heard Allison open the front door. He frowned. Who the hell was that desperate to get their attention? When he heard the uncertainty in Allison’s voice as she called out to him, he strode towards the door, one hand instinctively but unobtrusively skimming for the concealed knife he always wore even at home. He pulled up short at the sight of the two Deputies at his door. What the hell?

He tried to restrain the scowl on his face and make his expression at least neutral  because pleasant or welcoming were impossibilities right then. “Can I help you Officers?”

The female Deputy offers him a professionally courteous but determined smile.

“Mr Argent, we need your assistance” Chris translated that to mean “you are going to help us where you like it or not and you probably won’t like it” but before he could respond in any way, the Deputy continued pleasantly but firmly “My name is Deputy Graeme and my colleague is Deputy Parrish. We need to look at all of your bill of sales for all the weapons you have sold for the last ten years Sir”

Chris’s mouth dropped open in shock “What?” Allison’s brown eyes widened as her gaze bounced between the law officers and her father. Chris let his anger show on his face.

“That’s ridiculous, I submit my records for the audit every quarter as legally required, why the hell would you need to go through everything for the last ten years. It will take days to do not to mention the time it will take to get everything to the station and...”  
  
But Deputy Graeme just raised one eyebrow, her tone still professional but somehow less pleasant, she proceeded to talk over the top of him. “There is a current investigation in a crime involving an illegally obtained firearm Mr Argent, as a legitimate businessman selling weapons sir, we need to ensure that we cover every avenue.” When it looked like Chris Argent was still going to protest, her smile became harder as she shut down his objections. “We realise that this will take some time sir, and we don’t want to inconvenience you more than necessary so we are here to go through the records on your premises, we don’t need to take them to the station. If it takes longer than expected, my colleagues will relieve us and just continue until it’s done. The Sheriff’s department of the Beacon Hills would be grateful for your...co-operation in this matter Mr Argent.”

Before Chris could comment, his teenage daughter spoke hotly “Do you have a warrant?” The other officer, the male Deputy smiled at her coldly but answered in the same calm professional tone “If we need to get one Miss Argent, that can be arranged, but then unfortunately it will also mean that Argent Weapons will cease to trade as its licenses will be suspended pending completion of the ongoing investigation… which could take months”

Allison looked at her father for guidance, Chris hadn’t taken his eyes off the two Deputies as his brain raced through the implications and risks of having the two officers in his office, his bloody home. Jesus he would have to keep them away from the basement. 

  
He didn’t look at his daughter as he said “Ally, go put some coffee on while I show the Deputies to my office, and let your Mom know our plans have changed for the evening, she should get some rest and I will speak to her later.”

Chris didn’t take his attention from the two officers as Allison made her way to the kitchen with no further demur. Deputy Parrish’s smile was a little too wide, and the look in his eyes a little too knowing for Chris Argent’s liking. Whilst he was planning damage limitation in his head, and he needed to know what the hell this crap was about because this kind of investigation couldn’t be a coincidence, he needed to speak to his father god-damn it what was the old bastard up to this time?, there was a small but vocal part of his mind and heart that wanted to kiss the ground the two of them bloody walked on, because this interruption, this inconvenience, this irritation meant that his wife would be alive tomorrow and the day after and even the day after that before they had the time and opportunity to complete this awful plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly let me just say that I am so pleased you are all enjoying the Sheriff's sterling show of steely slyness or sly steeliness. I love all your comments and speculations. Such fun. 
> 
> Now an apology for two things:-   
> a) the police procedure for registering gun sales... got no idea so made it up oops   
> b)the timeline in the story, I know Victoria popped her clogs before Stiles was beaten up but there are so many adults in that show who need (a good kicking er) proper chastisement for abusing the teenagers in their care that I am resurrecting her so she gets her just deserts too (her death just made the people who loved her suffer, she was well out of it, here she gets to live her nightmare because I am a Mummy mega bitch too and I can do it)....so the reason Ally is a bit of a violent nutjob is because she's just found out about werewolves and her mum was bitten. It works for me. My teenage daughter would be extremely vicious if someone hurt me so its not out of the realms of possibility. 
> 
> I think I mentioned it before but this won't be canon, this is parental justice / revenge with a surprise plot device which hopefully becomes clearer in the next chapter and then I will change the tags.   
> Happy Mothering Sunday to any and all mega beautiful Mummies out there ;-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa confesses all to the Sheriff. The Sheriff is taking names. Stiles has breakfast with his Dad, and nearly a panic attack. Not in that order. Tony watches Pepper, Pepper avoids Tony, Jarvis is a sarky Starky like his creator.

“So Mel, how long has Scott been a Werewolf?”

Melissa McCall stared at John Stilinski in shock. John Stilinski was sitting there in her armchair in the darkened living room as if he was damn well owned the place. Cleansing anger shot through the exhaustion of mind, body and spirit which had been creeping over her for days. How dare he? But before she could open her mouth and really tear a strip of him, John rose from the chair and moved towards her, the rigid anger in his face turning to affectionate concern.

“You must be so worried Honey”. The sympathetic understanding in his voice was the last straw, and her emotions burst out like an overactive volcano. She had tried so hard to hold it together, but her reaction to Scott’s revelation, her fear of her own son, guilt at not supporting him properly, guilt at what had happened to Stiles, guilt that John had been in the dark about the danger to his own son overwhelmed her. What kind of useless Mom was she? Now John, the father of the boy who she treated as her second son, was offering her comfort when she hadn’t even told him his boy was involved in this supernatural crap. It was all too much. Her bag dropped to the floor and she just burst into tears.

John’s visit to the McCall household had been impulse, he had meant to leave it for a few days but after he had listened to the rest of the conversations recorded by the bugs he had planted on Hale and Erica Reyes, he had suspended enough disbelief to know he needed to corroborate the insane bleak fairy tale fantasy that was being enacted in his town. At the epicentre of which appeared to be his son and his now furry best friend as they dealt with all the elements of said fucking fairy tale including murderous serial killing hunters, murderous back from the dead Alpha werewolves, inept Alpha werewolves with a pack of unruly bitten loser teenagers and a murderous giant green lizard who was controlled by some other serial killing loser schmuck. Not forgetting Beacon Hills very own Randagast the Brown, aka Alan Deaton the town vet. That man was also going to be receiving a visit from the Sheriff.  
  
So there he was, sitting in Mel McCall’s chair in her darkened house, waiting for the nurse to return for her shift because if all this shit was true, not only had Stiles kept him in the dark but Mel had too. The woman whose son he had treated as his own especially when the kid had to cope with his anger issues after his waste of space father had skipped town, the woman who had treated Stiles like her own after they had lost Claudia, the woman whom he had rung up drunk and sobbing in his grief, and who had listened without getting angry at him or trying to take his young son away.   
God damn it, he and Mel were supposed to be looking after the boys together and she had betrayed him.  Worse she had allowed Stiles to stay in the line of fire. He didn’t know if he could forgive her for that.

As he watched the exhausted woman enter the house from his shadowed spot, he saw the defeat in her posture. The words that leapt out of his mouth were designed to hurt but as soon as he saw that the first expression to cross her face was shamed despair when she realised who had asked the question, and then the anger which followed it, his own anger calmed. She looked tormented. Jesus, he was having a hard enough time dealing with Stiles injuries, how the hell was she coping if this insanity was true. And the Sheriff of Beacon Hills was beginning to be very afraid it was true.

He moved towards her, and the next words out of his mouth were concern for an old and dear friend. By the time she had recovered from her crying jag, he had her sitting on the sofa, a mug of tea on the table next to her and he was holding her hand.

“I’m so sorry John, I only found out a few days ago, I didn’t handle it well and I have hardly seen Scott since. I am so afraid for him. Jesus I was even afraid of him” the last shameful words had Mel resting her head on John’s shoulder, as she told him what had happened. “The night you found Laura Hale’s body, Scott was bitten by Peter Hale…"

The Sheriff took careful note of that name.

 

John was making breakfast when Stiles stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. “Hey Kiddo, sleep well, how are you feeling?” The mumbled grunt, the dull thud of something suspiciously like a teenage forehead hitting the table and then the whispered groan and swear words made him bite back a laugh but he didn’t turn around from the stove. “When you decide to open your eyes, if you haven’t got concussion, there are painkillers and the correct dosage of your Adderall besides your plate with a glass of ice water, take those first and then eat your breakfast”

He ignored the whines whilst he piled the pancakes and bacon high on the server, the syrup and everything else were already on the table. Then sat down opposite the slumped figure of his son. “Okay then, if you aren’t eating that’s just more bacon for me, how kind and considerate of you son” he taunted and his son’s head popped up with alacrity, eyes opened to menacing slits. “That had better be turkey bacon Dad” he tried to growl but his voice came out as a hoarse wavering whiny cough instead. The frown on Stiles’s face grew as his father grinned unrepentantly at him as he simply said “Nope” and the damned man had the gall to pop another piece of delicious fatty cholesterol causing bacon into his mouth. Bad Bacon Bad Dad Bad bacon scoffing Dad, Bad, Bad Dad.

Stiles straightened and his father could see the concerned anger in his poor bruised pale face but before he could get a word in edgewise, John’s smirk got a little harder and there was something implacable in his still smiling blue eyes as he stared straight into Stiles slowly widening shocked amber ones. He leant towards his son and his calm voice stated “Don’t you worry baby boy, we’ll be having an in depth frank and full conversation about all the life choices being made in this family real soon”. Stiles stared at him open mouthed and then gulped. An involuntary shiver raised bumps across his skin as he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from his fathers.

“Dad” the teenager began desperately trying to work out what the hell was going on whilst his stomach dropped as if he had just taken a ride on a roller coaster. His father continued with implacable hard edged amusement “Oh and I am changing the definition of lying back to its original meaning Kiddo, horizontal positioning ain’t gonna cut it anymore. Do you understand me Stiles?”

Panic flooded through him, and for a few seconds he forgot all his aches and pains. Did his father know? What did his father know? How could he keep him safe? He had to keep him safe!. John moved closer to the boy as he could see the same terror in his kid’s eyes as when he had come home so battered and bruised. His boy was sinking into that same desperate mind set and that just wasn’t going to happen.  
  
Stiles watched as his Dad’s big strong hands moved to the sides of his face and his thumbs stroked his ears. Stiles could feel himself calm down as his Dad repeated those magic words of his childhood. “Daddy’s got you Baby boy”. Stiles stared up at his Dad with his mouth open to protest but John could see the kid’s muscles relax and the desperation leave his face. His Dad’s smile grew a little gentler for a second as he urged “Eat your breakfast Sweetheart” before he moved back to his seat to start on his own breakfast, and then he calmly ignored the rest of Stiles’s more common teenage anxiety of his wrongdoing being found out. He had things to do before his “chat” with his son. He needed to get all his little ducks in a row, especially as he never missed a shot.

 

Tony was exhausted, meetings, meetings and more meetings and they weren’t even interesting R&D meetings. More boardroom crap, more schmoozing, more bare faced lying, more drains on his energy and his mental health when he just wanted to be working on the something more useful like say actually breathing or perhaps an upgrade to his suits.

He needed to rest. Christ that was a turn up for the books, the Duracell bunny playboy or more accurately the arc reactor playboy,  was running out of steam. Mr “I don’t need to eat, or sleep until I drop” himself needed to sleep and eat, and just have some quiet time. Christ on a cracker, what was he, a toddler. No Tony do not repeat that question to Pepper, Rhodey or Jarvis as they were likely to howl with laughter at him.

But even that wasn’t what was really concerning him, he could put up with all this crap, in fact he was incredibly good at this crap, he had actually run his own company for years even if he and everyone else liked to pretend that he hadn’t because the playboy reckless persona was the one most people including himself remembered, he just didn’t like doing it.

But the real problem was that Pepper had been avoiding him. Really, really avoiding him, she was hitting his own patent pending “Tony Stark levels of avoidance” avoiding him. If he didn’t know better, he would think she had some outside help to avoid him, or rather inside help. His eyes flashed as he texted his AI.  “Jarvis you beautiful little bastard, you are so disowned, I am donating you to the National Lottery so you can run their numbers and only their numbers all day every day for ever and ever amen”. He forced back a laugh at the reply from his brain child “Thank you Sir, it will be a nice vacation” Snarky little shit. It was just as well he couldn’t afford the time to create another AI, with a more respectful, nay worshiping attitude towards its creator. Perhaps a girl’s voice with a sweet Irish accent?

Jarvis responded with a “top of the morning to you” and Tony nearly fell of his chair.

Pepper finally reacted to him with a glare and then swiftly removed her gaze. Tony’s mood soured. He did not like it. Sure he had been engrossed on one of his many projects but it had finally dawned on him that his Pep, Pepper, Virginia Potts, CEO, ex-lover and best friend was actually avoiding him.

In his initial panic he had covered the basics. He had checked the stock market, SI was fine, she hadn’t ruined his company in a fit of utter illogical shoe frenzy induced madness and Jarvis hadn’t reminded him of any missed birthdays/anniversaries/ memorials/ charity events/marriages/ bar mitzvahs and or funerals lately so he honestly didn’t think he had pissed her off because of that.

He had been thinking of taking a little blood from her just to make sure she was still his Pepper not some alien pod person or chimera gifted by Reindeer Games, (who was supposedly locked up tighter in Asgard than the Cap in his Spandex), but he hadn’t got round to doing that yet. Perhaps he needed to send her some gifts.  Lots of gifts. Shoes, a truck load of shoes. Two truckloads of shoes. Shoes were always an in and win with his Pepper.

There damn it, she was doing it again. His eyes narrowed as he watched her glad hand one of the board members and sail out of the conference room as if she had nothing better to do than irritate Tony. Goddamn it, she was his CEO, if she was going to irritate him and ignore him, the least she could do was tell him why! Even if he didn’t listen to her. He turned his frown upside down and smirked. Okay then, time for drastic measures…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the Kudos and Comments. So pleased you are enjoying it. Sorry for the delay but have actually been working on a chapter I can't put up yet because there needs a bit more to the story first. But I just couldn't resist the idea I had for a certain someone's downfall.. sniggers evilly and I had to write it so now playing catch up because of my viciousness. Never mind, wont't be long. Next chapter should be Tony's. Enjoy xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek kept very still. He stared into the Sheriff’s eyes and saw death. His life might be crap but he knew damn well he wasn’t ready to leave it yet.  
> “Protect Stiles, got it” he said carefully. “But what about…?” 
> 
> "Sir, Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes have joined Agents Coulson, Romanov and Barton, Captain Rogers and Dr Banner in the main communal area” If Jarvis’s voice was a little stiff, Tony didn’t notice as he frowned, little frissons of anger beginning to pool in his gut.  
> “On screen Jay” he barked, suddenly no humour left in the room. Why would they all be together without him? Why would Rhodey be here? What the hell was Pepper playing at?

Derek woke slowly with a groan, the annoying pounding in his head making further sleep impossible. He blinked at the alarm clock beside his bed. It was only 5 am. He had only managed to get to bed at 2.30, after patrolling the preserve, trying to hunt both Peter and that freaking giant green lizard thing with the pack to no avail. Even Scott had turned up to help which was a big surprise, after that mess with Allison and her Mom, he was sure that Scott would rather tear his own leg off and eat it raw instead of help Derek ever again. But then Scott was not subtle and Derek knew damn well that Scott had made some sort of deal with Gerard Argent, so Derek allowed the teenager to tag along, watching with a sort of sad satisfaction as guilt ate at the boy. He would kill Scott if he had to. He would feel remorse for it, but Scott was not going to jeopardise Derek’s pack because the kid was as dumb as a brick, and too stubborn to ask for help.  
  
He needed to make sure Scott thought his deception was unnoticed, but Derek had overestimated his wolf’s capacity for dealing with what it considered to be a traitor. He had finally sent the rest of the pack home.  
They needed to be in school later that morning. Before they had left he had decided that Scott deserved a little painful payback from this encounter too and asked him in front of the others why Scott was with them when Stiles had been beaten up severely by Argent and was home being looked after by his father.  
  
Scott had stared at him, anger overriding his faked pleasant façade. “I don’t believe you” he growled at the Alpha but Erica had come up behind him and slapped Scott’s head, hard. “Boyd and I were there you moron, being electrocuted whilst Stiles was having his ass handed to him by the old creep. Stiles is the reason we are still alive” and she moved away with one last nasty slap to Scott’s head. Scott could hear the truth in her words and he went white. “I've got to go” he stammered out before turning and bolting out of the preserve faster that Derek had ever seen him move. Erica grinned at her Alpha with satisfaction, her canines showing.

Derek had finally got home too tired to even shower and just collapsed on his bed. Now, now there was a sickening noise making sleep impossible. But Werewolves never got headaches, well unless they were named Stilinski, the sarcastic, annoying little chatterbox, or to be fair any of the idiot pups that he had landed himself with.  
Derek’s internal diatribe was interrupted as he suddenly realised that the pounding noise was coming from his front door, and not based in his skull. He stumbled out of bed, still in sleep pants and not bothering to cover his bare chest. If who ever wanted to see him was that desperate, they could just put up with his lack of clothing. Might even frighten the irritating suicidal bastard off.

He stopped inches from the door as he scented the Sheriff. Adrenaline rushed through his body and his eyes flashed red but he pulled the wolf back, and carefully opened the door, one handed, his other arm behind his back with his claws free trying to anticipate any attack. The Sheriff was dressed all in black, like a freaking ninja. He looked like Doom personified, and was that the hilt of a knife showing from his boot? How the hell was he managing to wear two hand guns without the holsters? What? Derek resisted the urge to rub his eyes like a little pup.

The Sheriff slowly looked him up and down and snorted, as he moved forwards, until Derek either had to back away or force a confrontation. Derek stiffened and for a stubborn moment he refused to back down, until he heard the long suffering paternal sigh that left the Sheriff’s mouth. “Don’t be stupid son” he growled and motioned Derek away.

To his own amazement Derek stepped back. The Sheriff suddenly gave him a wicked triumphant grin, the same kind that Stiles would offer when he tried to convince Derek that one of his amazingly insane but oddly productive schemes were the best option.

Derek rubbed the bridge of his nose, grunted “It’s too early for this shit” and stalked off to his kitchen to put the coffee maker on. He heard the Sheriff follow behind him. He could feel the amusement rolling off the man.

As Derek opened the fridge for the milk, “You might be Alpha of your bunch of Puppies boy, but I run this town and your wolf knows it.” The milk carton hit the ground without Derek noticing it as he stared with disbelief at Stiles’s father. What the hell?

“What do you want?” Derek asked, thrusting his shoulders back and flashing his eyes at the human who dared to challenge him in his own home. He was an Alpha. He could feel his claws begin to lengthen, but the Sheriff seemed to just take it in his stride.

“Don’t be an idiot son, the only reason I am here and you aren't already in the County Morgue is because of Stiles. I need to keep him safe whilst dealing with this supernatural shit, and since he has endangered himself to keep you alive far too many times already, he won’t be happy if I put you down. Though trust me I will kill you if anything happens to my son. Your sole purpose is now to protect my boy, do you understand Alpha?”

The cold calm implacable voice made Derek’s eyes widen, and the red fade in confusion. “I could take you down now, rip your throat out with my teeth, and tear out your heart with my claws. What do you think you can do to stop it?” he wasn't whining, he wasn't. Alpha's don't whine.

Before Derek had finished his questions, a silver knife was buried in his bare shoulder. Shit it burned like a bitch, by the time he had looked back up, he felt the press of a pistol against his forehead. “Ordinary bullets Son, but pretty much betting one in the brain won’t help you fight off a sword taking your head off.” To Derek’s amazement, the Sheriff pulled out a freaking curved sword from behind his back with his free hand.

Derek kept very still. He stared into the Sheriff’s eyes and saw death. His life might be crap but he knew damn well he wasn’t ready to leave it yet.

“Protect Stiles, got it” he said carefully. “But what about…?” Before he finished his question, the pistol, and sword disappeared. The knife was carefully pulled from his shoulder and he was offered a clean tea towel to hold against the wound. All the while the Sheriff stared him in his eyes, until Derek finally dropped his own. He wasn’t going to win a dominance battle with this bloody human. The man was dangerous. His Uncle Peter would be pissing himself laughing at the pathetic Alpha if he knew, but Peter wouldn't be laughing for long if this man caught him.  
  
 “I’ll take care of the hunters Derek, you just need to keep Stiles safe and train your Betas, all your Betas” he emphasised. Derek looked at him curiously “Even the newly bitten and reluctant ones” For a second Derek didn’t follow, then he grimaced, and grunted “I’m surprised that Chris Argent or that bastard Gerard hasn't killed Victoria yet”  
The Sheriff patted his shoulder and for a second it felt just like the way his father used to encourage him.  
“She belongs to you now doesn't she? So you need to make sure she is taught how to handle the bite. Of course Scott will need a pack if he’s going to survive and I’ll be having a chat with him about it. So that’s two extra to your pack. Now is there enough milk left for a coffee before we rescue your new female Beta from her murderous family?”

  

Tony was supposed to be out of town, on his way to a conference in Basle to discuss the latest advances in robotics. Advances his fine half Italian ass, it would be three days of sheer stress relieving laugh out loud comedy for the genius, that’s if he had gone.  He was rather disappointed to miss it, but this business with Pepper needed to take priority.  
His beautiful sneaky redheaded witch was up to something and he needed to find out what. Besides, Jarvis would stream the highlights to Tony’s stark pad, that way he could enjoy the funnies again and again and again. He just didn’t have the satisfaction of personally laughing in the idiot’s faces. Then donating a sickening amount of money to the one who had made him laugh the hardest. What? Sometimes Tony only had to redirect their amusing little theories slightly and they came up with really interesting things that Tony could cackle over, tinker with and then make a fortune on. It was amazing how reaping the royalty benefits from SI made Scientists focus.  
  
So Tony made sure that his private quinjet was on route to Switzerland, that Jarvis did not alert anyone that he was still in the tower and that he was warned whenever anyone came close to his suite. He couldn’t go to the labs in case he was seen by the Foster crew, or Bruce, so he relaxed on the sofa in his sound proofed lounge, with the enormous wide screen TV flickering quietly in the background.  
  
He just wanted to get Pepper by herself to find out what the hell was wrong. If she didn’t know he was here then she couldn’t damn well avoid him any more. So he had made sure Jarvis had told them all that he had left, and then once she thought he was well on his way to the land of luscious luxurious indulgent chocolate, cuckoo clocks and secretive banks, Jarvis would send her to Tony’s suite on some pretext where he would have the champagne chilling, the strawberries covered in cream and a locked door so she couldn’t damn well leave until he found out what the hell was going on.

“Sir, Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes have joined Agents Coulson, Romanov and Barton, Captain Rogers and Dr Banner in the main communal area” If Jarvis’s voice was a little stiff, Tony didn’t notice as he frowned, little frissons of anger beginning to pool in his gut.  
“On screen Jay” he barked, suddenly no humour left in the room. Why would they all be together without him, and why would Rhodey be here. What the hell was Pepper playing at? He could feel spikes of adrenaline flood his body, and he hated himself for the suspicions clouding his mind, he loved and trusted Pepper and Rhodey, but he didn’t have a good track record with that did he? Look at dear old Dad and then Obadiah. No, no he wasn’t going to think like that. He wasn’t. Pepper and Rhodey loved him, and he trusted them. He even trusted the Avengers to some extent.  
Coulson was still on probation after that freaking zombie stunt that he and Fury had pulled. It had cost him a damn fortune to replace those cards for Capsicle to place in Agent Agent’s Coffin. Every time he thought about the expression on the guy’s face as he had painstakingly signed each and every card, Tony wanted to pound both Fury and Coulson into a pulp. Manipulative double dealing bastards.

His thoughts were interrupted as Jarvis cleared his throat.” It would be wise just to speak to Miss Potts sir”. Tony’s back stiffened and his voice was dangerous as he whispered “Do you know Jay Jay” The AI was apologetic as he responded, “Miss Potts enacted the privacy protocol Sir”. There was a silence for a full minute then Tony repeated with no obvious emotion.   
“On screen Jarvis”

The TV was suddenly filled with the view of the communal area. Tony watched as Pepper lay a big beige file on the coffee table in front of her, and for a second Tony was confused, were those three bullet shells she put besides it? Then his attention was totally focused on her words.

 

Pepper stared at each and every one of the people in the room with her. Tony’s friends and family. The only ones he trusted now. They were all here for Tony, but she was still not sure if this was the right way to go about it. She hated going behind Tony’s back on anything. Jesus she felt as traitorous as that bastard Stane, but this was too important to and for Tony to mess it up or hide it, like he would be tempted to do.  
It could be dangerous for him in so many ways and he was going to have to accept their help, even if he just wanted to run and hide in his own outrageous behaviour. This was going to be a game changer for Tony, for all of them, and they had to find a better way to help him than picking up his drunk debauched ass when he had finally stopped running.

She drew a deep breath just as Steve Rodgers prompted gently “Miss Potts, Ma’am, you asked us all here for a reason? Is Tony okay?” The others nodded, concern and curiosity warring in their expressions

_Tony drew a shuddering breath, something bitter easing slightly in his chest at the question and their facial expressions. He relaxed his tense shoulders. He didn’t want a neck ache._

Bruce piped up from his corner seat. “Don’t drag this out Pep, the Big Guy is really fond of Tony, you don’t want him to worry about him” his voice was amused but there was no doubt it was a warning, and suddenly tension hit the room again, multiple pairs of eyes moving between Pepper and Bruce.

_Tony smiled, way to go Brucie Baby, science bros for ever. He was going to do something extra nice for the big green rage machine, once he finished perfecting the stretchy grow big knickers, maybe create a robotic General Ross punch bag that would stand up to the Big Guys fists?_

Pepper’s eyes widened and she almost stuttered “No, nothing’s wrong with Tony, he’s fine but something has come to light that I need your help and advice on.” She almost seemed unable to continue until Coulson interjected “Do you want me to continue Pepper?” he asked kindly.

_Tony stiffened, Coulson knew, he knew what this was about. Damn you Pepper._

Pepper drew a deep breath, smiled at Coulson and shook her head slightly.

“I received some information from the estate of the late Donna Whitney” She began more calmly “Who the hell is Donna Whitney?” Barton asked impatiently

Before Pepper could respond Natasha frowned and said shortly “Obadiah Stane’s long term personal assistant. She died a few months ago from cancer. She wasn’t arrested or jailed for her part in Stane’s schemes because Tony refused to prosecute a woman with a terminal illness.” Natasha’s poor opinion of that leniency was quite clear.

Steve Rodgers raised one eyebrow, “Stane, the guy who tried to kill Tony?” he queried, before anyone else could answer Rhodey stared at Steve and raised one eyebrow in direct imitation of the Captain as he confirmed “Stane the guy who Tony loved like a father, who had Tony kidnapped, tortured and then tried to kill him by removing his arc reactor, leaving him helpless and dying, going after Pepper with an iron man suit on steroids and then forcing Tony to kill him to stop his own pathetic world domination plan. That Obadiah Stane” Steve raised his hands instinctively and backed off a step.

_Rhodey’s ticked off voice actually brought a smile to Tony’s face even though he winced at his best friend’s blunt recital of the facts._

Pepper shifted impatiently on her seat, as she continued into the stunned silence after Rhodey’s words.  She needed to wrap this up

“Stane ordered a hit on a woman called Maya Hansen in the late 1990’s.”

_Tony’s confusion was echoed in the faces of everyone bar Coulson in the main room._

Pepper dropped her gaze for a second but they all saw the hurt that flashed across her face before she continued firmly “Maya Hansen was pregnant with Tony’s child, she had tried to contact Tony through Obadiah, which was how he found out.”

“The bastard killed Tony’s kid”, the venom in the voice of Captain America was shocking. If Stane had been alive at that moment, there was no doubt that the Cap would have put him in his grave.  There was an ominous growl from Bruce’s corner of the room, and a flash of green in those deliberately calm eyes.

“Guys, let Pepper finish” Coulson snapped and they all turned back to her.

_Tony started to shake. There was a buzzing in his ears that made it hard for him to focus. He had tried to bury Obadiah’s treachery for years but this, Obadiah had killed the mother of his child and the baby.  Maya and his kid had died because of Tony. Everything he touched turned to ashes, he damaged everyone he loved. He was worthless. He turned away from the screen, almost stumbling, forcing away the burning in his eyes. He needed a god-damn drink, he needed it now. He needed to kill that bastard Stane again and again, he needed…  
“Sir you need to listen to the rest” Jarvis’s urgent shout shocked him enough that it forced him to come to a standstill, and Pepper’s words cleared a path through his distraught destructive thoughts._

“The baby didn’t die. He’s still alive. The hit-man married Maya, they changed their names and moved back to America from Poland. Stane didn’t know. He never found out. The hit-man convinced Stane that Maya and the child were dead but doubled his price because Stane hadn’t told him about the baby. He threatened Stane if he ever came after him, that he would kill him, and put three bullets into Stane’s arm to prove his point.”

Banner asked curiously “But if Stane thought they were dead, how did Whitney know any different?”

Coulson responded this time “Whitney tipped the hit-man off about the baby. She had no qualms about the woman dying but the baby was her limit. Stane had forced her to have an abortion the previous year. Guess she was still ticked off about that. This particular assassin had rules about kids, he was one of the best at the time, could take out impossible targets, he always found a way. If he had your ticket then you were checking out, but he drew the line at kids. Obadiah, the manipulative lying murderous bastard didn’t tell him about the kid because he just wanted the best out there.”

Natasha turned to Coulson and asked carefully, her Russian accent more pronounced “The name of the assassin?”

“Scimitar” Coulson’s answer was just as careful. Unbelievably Natasha flinched.  
Barton’s eyes widened and he blurted out horrified “Johnny Cage, Johnny Cage has Tony’s son?”

Bruce and Steve stared at each other with disturbed confusion, but before they could even draw breath to speak, the cold hard unforgiving voice in the doorway drawled.

“Who the hell is Johnny Cage and where the hell is my son Pepper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So pleased you enjoyed the last chapter, hope this one whets your appetite a bit more because...... I am posting another chapter today as well. Enjoy enjoy enjoy. Let me know what you think? Hugs xx
> 
> P.s. Hope it wasn't confusing but stuff in italics is Tony's reaction when he was watching them all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff pulled his Cruiser to a stop in front of the Black SUV already parked in the space reserved for the High School Principal. There was no way that vehicle was moving without the Sheriff's explicit permission and removal of the cruiser. The owner of the vehicle was not going to be needing it for a very long time.
> 
> The Sheriff deals with Gerard Argent

The Sheriff pulled his Cruiser to a stop in front of the Black SUV already parked in the space reserved for the High School Principal.There was no way that vehicle was moving without the Sheriff's explicit permission and the physical removal of the police car. The owner of the vehicle was not going to be needing it for a very long time. He would get Forensics to go over it before it was moved to the Station pound.

He looked up at the school with cool gratification. It was a good day. The sun was shining. His kid was safe at home, recovering from his injuries. He was slowly but surely dealing with the external harmful "problems" haunting his boy, and taking back the reins in their relationship. He would gain a great deal of personal and professional satisfaction from the next hour because he was now going to destroy the life and reputation of the psychotic immoral murdering bastard that had hurt his son. What was there not to like? It was a good day.  
  
He had been looking forward to this moment and had taken steps to ensure everything went smoothly. Two of his people should already be waiting for him at the main entrance. He fixed his hat, and his sunglasses, grabbed the file from the passenger seat, locked his door and moved off.

The Sheriff had waited for the time which would have the optimum effect. Third Tuesday of the month, every month even during the summer break, commencing at 10:30 am was the regular scheduled meeting of the Beacon Hills High School Board. As elected County Sheriff he was technically a member of the School board, but rarely had the chance to attend unless he was specifically requested. He hadn’t been able to attend the extraordinary meeting appointing Gerard Argent as Principal after Principal Edgares sudden and unexpected resignation and subsequent surprise move to Florida for his “health”.

The Sheriff’s call to ex Principal Herman Edgares had been very enlightening. So the Sheriff was attending this session of the School board, but not unfortunately for the rest of them as an actual member.

He and two of his more physically imposing Deputies walked into the High School that morning and headed for the Principal’s office.  
The School secretary, “Mrs Emilia Cox, four  outstanding fines, three for parking and one for dog fouling”, Deputy Reynard had pointedly stated very loudly as if the Sheriff needed to be made aware of any and all criminals in his vicinity, whilst she had attempted to bar their entrance to the Principal’s meeting room.  
  
Mrs Cox had flushed unbecomingly, opened her mouth to scold Dean Reynard for rudely interrupting her because she remembered him as a skinny snot nosed kid, and she always, always beat his mother at the annual Church charity bake competition because her cakes were the best, and then paled in shame as she realised what he actually said.    
  
Thank the good Lord that the Sheriff paid him no mind but focused on her legitimate concerns instead. Emilia Cox was so going to be having words with Anne Reynard about her appalling parenting skills. Mrs Cox’s relief didn’t last long.  
  
The Sheriff had leant casually against the counter, as he calmly responded to Mrs Cox’s concerns “I have a warrant for the arrest of Gerard Argent on suspicion of child abuse Mrs Cox, and I have to inform you that obstructing an officer of the law in his duty is also an offence and you will also be arrested if you continue to try to interfere in the due process of the law.”

The Sheriff was sure that Mrs Cox did not realise that she actually moaned with horror as she heard the Sheriff’s words being echoed through the school tannoy system. Everyone, staff and pupils in every class, every hallway, even those on the school track and field grounds would have heard those words spoken about the Principal. Her appalled and stunned gaze flew to the on switch next to the Sheriff’s elbow.  
  
The Sheriff, who had always been such a nice and polite widowed gentleman smiled at her gently but his eyes were so cold with a vicious satisfaction which was reflected back in the one word he mouthed at her “Oops” and the little wink he directed towards her.  
Emilia Cox stood frozen with horror, shame and disbelief as she watched him straighten, the menace tangible as he sauntered to the already opened door, his Deputy waiting there for him to enter first. Deputy Dean Reynard tipped his hat at her as he passed, “You have a good day now y’hear Mrs Cox” he drawled with such an insolent smirk that her right hand tingled to meet his face. His grin grew wider as if he had read her mind then followed his Sheriff.  
  
The Sheriff’s entrance to the meeting room was all he could have hoped for.  
The round eyed astonishment and discomfort of the board members caused amusement to seep into the Sheriff’s eyes until he faced the Principal, who had risen to his feet with arrogant disdain.  
“Sheriff there obviously has been some sort of mix up”, he began, urbane and arrogantly confident that the Sheriff would back down and admit that he had made a mistake. He was Gerard Argent. Patriarch of the legendary Argent Hunters and he was not going to be arrested by some small town hick cop.  
  
His professional persona as an educationalist had provided an alibi for many a covert operation in many werewolf benighted towns and there was no way that Gerard ever sullied that persona, or at the very least left any witnesses to testify. What the hell had riled up the pathetic father of that weak pitiful teenage boy? There was no way that mouthy little shit would have told his father what happened, he was too worried about protecting his Daddy the big bad Sheriff, and his best friend, the godless abomination.  
  
No matter, he had the school board eating out of his hand, he was sure he could convince the idiot cop to back off. He pinned his professional smile to his face as he opened the first volley in his attempt to make the Sheriff look and feel like a fool.

The slow, cold menacing smile from the Hick cop made Argent widen his eyes with suspicion. And he watched in disbelief as the Sheriff motioned to his Deputies. Reynard moved to stand behind the Principal, his hand very obviously on his holster, and Deputy Owens remained by the door, an immovable barrier to any unauthorised exit, as the Sheriff very carefully placed the folder that he had been carrying on the table with enough emphasis that all the eyes in the room were drawn to it, whilst the Sheriff watched the Principal with the unblinking gaze of a predator.   
There was something uncomfortably familiar about that gaze and then Argent realised what it was, the satisfaction of a hunter who had his prey in his sights and was ready to take the kill shot. Argent felt a trickle of ice down the length of his spine. He hadn’t felt fear for years, he loved the adrenaline of the hunt but his hunts were meticulously planned to allow the abominations no wriggle room. He was the leader who watched as his orders were carried out, and then delivered the coup de grace. He did not like this feeling at all, but he refused to acknowledge that it might be fear.

The murmurings began, until shocked apprehension turned to the beginnings of defensive anger, as the Chair of the Board berated the Sheriff for announcing the idiotic business to the whole school. John Stilinski stared unblinkingly back at the irate woman and said with diplomatic courtesy “It would be wise of the Board to disassociate themselves from this man as soon as possible”.

The School board members looked at him in rising fury after his little announcement, but it was only DA Whittemore that had the actual backbone to query the Sheriff. He spoke coldly and clinically,  
  
“Sheriff I seriously fail to see your justification for removing Principal Argent from his post. Gerard has been instrumental in other schools in raising standards and…”

But before he could continue, the Sheriff nodded with understanding, dropped his head as if he needed to gather enough fortitude to say something he obviously didn’t want to. He waited until the School board members moved almost instinctively closer to hear his voice which he purposively dropped into a softer, lower pitch, then raised his gaze, using his most earnest expression as he spoke almost apologetically, dragging his words out. “I shouldn't be telling you this as it could compromise an investigation” He seemed to weigh up his options and then shrugged his shoulder with obvious resignation.  
  
He looked directly at Whittemore, “I have to be assured that not one word of this will leave these four walls” Whittemore raised his eyebrows as he considered the Sheriff for a long moment and then turned to face the other people in the room. “Please understand Ladies and Gentlemen that if the Sheriff provides us with confidential information pertaining to an ongoing investigation then should any word of this be disseminated to any interested parties or otherwise, the Sheriff has the authority to detain us all under the charge of obstructing justice or even accessory after the fact. Now I need your unanimous agreement that this will remain confidential or I will seek answers from the Sheriff outside of this forum as is my right and duty.”

The Sheriff waited for the board to agree, as he knew they would. The need to know what was going on was obviously making their collective skin crawl. It was better that way, as soon as they knew the district would know, despite his and the DA’s strictures. The wider the news spread the better as far as the Sheriff was concerned. He wanted the ripples to have damn ripples. He wanted all of Argent’s special friends to find out what happened when they came to his town and messed with his kid.

He took a breath and then straightened himself ensuring his badge was in full view as he spoke with the calm authority of his office, his eyes lowering obviously to look at the folder before him  
“There are photographs... “He began tantalisingly.

“Photographs?” murmured one of the other education board members, the Reverend Gillespie with a frown, a few of the other board members were throwing uncomfortable and suspicious looks at the impassive and still silent Principal. The Sheriff watched out of the corner of his eye as Argent’s fists clenched then released almost immediately.  
  
Stilinski chose that moment to sit at the conference table though he hadn’t been asked, his whole demeanour portraying his concern for his fellow politicians.  
  
”I was contacted unofficially by the Beacon Tribune about a story they intend to run on Principal Argent, seems like there are some questions over his “mentoring” of certain young people, both male and female in previous schools and some pictures have come to light. I was informed as a courtesy to allow the County Sheriff’s office to run an investigation and have enough time to prepare a response.  Preliminary investigations show that there are questions to be answered. That’s why I brought it to the Board first. I would hate to have to send my people in to deal with irate parents and terrified young people. Can you just imagine what our voters will think when they find out that an alleged child abuser is running the local high school?”  
  
The utter horror on the rapidly paling faces of the board members was a joy to behold as he slid a surveillance photo of a smiling Gerard Argent facing the camera with what looked to be a damn cattle prod in his hands as he stood directly in front of two teenagers with their backs to the camera who were hanging from their wrists, dangling like fish from a line.  
A young blonde girl and a large and muscular young black youth, helpless and in obvious distress. Their heads were dropping forward and no faces could be seen. No faces except for that of the gleefully vicious Gerard Argent, the Principal of Beacon Hills High School.

There were gasps of horror and outrage as shocked eyes drank in the terrible picture and then turned to stare at the subject of the photograph.

Satisfaction began to curl in the Sheriff’s stomach, there was no damn smile on his face now.

“Sweet merciful Lord, you evil bastard” blurted out Reverend Gillespie.  The Reverend glared at the seated silent Principal with utter contempt, and ignored the attempt by the Chairwoman to shush hi,  
  
The DA studied the photo in silent disgust and the Sheriff saw the moment he recognised the two youngsters. The Sheriff also saw something else in the man’s face for a second, a sort of despairing guilt which was wiped away into the DA’s normal hard professional expression. Whittemore raised his head and stared straight at the Sheriff, the look in his eyes promising dire retribution, and Stilinski knew it wasn’t directed at him. Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd were the same age as Whittemore’s son Jackson, and had gone to the same elementary school. So of course he would recognise them.  
  
“I will need to speak to you privately John” the DA gritted through his teeth. The Sheriff raised one eyebrow curiously at him but nodded. The guy had barely given him the time of day since he had won the Sheriff’s election the first time, beating an old college friend of Whittemore. After Stiles’s little trick with Jackson, it had been the proverbial ice age. Now he was calling him by his first name? Interesting development but his attention was currently needed elsewhere. He picked up the photograph and slipped it back into the folder. His eyes never wavered from the still passive face of the Principal whose white knuckles were clenching the arms of the chair.

Argent’s face had tightened but he still spoke dismissively “Obviously this is a mistake, a prank by disenchanted pupils. Seriously Madam Chairwoman, Gentlemen and Ladies of the board, you know me and the standards I have insisted upon on in each of the troubled schools I have helped. The Sheriff has been misinformed, this is outrageous”.  
  
Gerard looked around at the room and saw some of that some of the weaker board members seemed to be listening to him. For a few seconds he allowed himself to hope that he could talk his way out of this one but then he made the mistake of looking back at the Sheriff. Only Argent saw the satisfaction in the Sheriff’s diamond hard eyes and finally he began to worry. What did the cop know? He couldn’t afford to be arrested or jailed now, there was too much work to be done. He couldn’t abandon his plan. There was too much at stake. He needed to get hold of Chris.

The Sheriff was calm and professional “If there has been a mistake Mr Argent then the sooner we investigate the better but that means you have to come with us”  
He nodded his head at Reynard and said “Deputy, read him his rights”. The Officer’s heavy hand landed on Argent’s shoulder as he told him to rise. He was handcuffed as the Deputy went through the arrest procedure, conscious of the presence of the District Attorney and his boss the Sheriff, not wanting to mess it up in front of the two most important County officers for Law and Justice standing in the same room. All the while the Sheriff’s implacable gaze never left Gerard Argent’s increasingly angry face.

Deputy Owens suddenly piped up, the underlying glee in his professional tone barely hidden as he spoke solemnly to his Sheriff, “I’m sorry Boss, unfortunately we had to park the cruiser at the front entrance when we got the call to meet you here, looks like we will have to walk Mr Argent out through the main school…in front of everyone”

The Sheriff saw the furious jerk as Argent tried to get away from his Deputy, the vicious rage clear on his face for barely seconds before he settled down again. John was impressed, the bastard knew how to contain his emotions.  
The Sheriff said voice regretful but his impassive face didn’t hide the malice in his eyes , “I would take him in mine which is out back, to try to contain the situation but I need to speak to Mr Whittemore, unless Mr Whittemore would like to have the conversation later?” he cocked his eyebrow at the DA, allowing Argent to get his hopes up until he saw the way Jackson Whittemore senior stared at him with ice in his eyes.  
Ice was also in his voice as the DA responded firmly but with no hint of real apology, “I’m sorry John I need to speak to you now, the suspect will have to travel with the Deputies” and then he turned away from the silently fuming handcuffed man as if he didn’t even exist.

The Sheriff made sure only Argent saw the smirk on his lips, as the Deputy marched him towards the door. Gerard planted his feet in front of the Sheriff, not struggling against the Deputy but refusing to move for a few seconds as he stared into the Sheriff’s face. “You know this is bullshit Stilinski, and I demand to see my son Christopher”

The Sheriff tilted his head and studied him for a second, then said gently but clearly “I am afraid Mr Christopher Argent is current assisting my Deputies at home with an investigation into the sale of illegal arms, did he not mention it to you?”  
  
The Principal’s eyes widened and for the first time, John saw fear in those cold hate-filled eyes as they flickered to the folder on the table. The Sheriff continued thoughtfully. “If you need a member of your family, I would suggest contacting your daughter in law but she is tied up with Derek Hale at the moment, something about making amends and offering reconciliation after the murder of the Hale family by your daughter Kate”

The complete silence in the room made the howl of insane rage from Argent even more shocking but it was the way he lost any self-restraint, or pretence at civility and the utter fury with which the Principal tried to attack the Sheriff even though his hands were cuffed that meant of course the Sheriff had to use the Taser on him, to safely subdue the suspect.  
  
The School Board were thankful to the Sheriff that he did not use his gun on the school premises, even if by the end of the short but intense altercation, Ex Principal Argent was drooling and being dragged with urine stained pants through the main school to the cruiser for processing at the Station. The reputation of the school would take an even bigger hit if he had been dragged out in a body bag in front of the clearly disturbed student body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written, rewritten and three-written this chapter. It is to date my favourite one.  
> Sorry next update will be next week sometime unfortunately. Lots on at work but I really really really wanted to get this chapter up.  
> But a little taster:  
> "Ho hum Tony.... The Scimitar always gets his target, and losing a life doesn't mean that he kills you, just that you wish he had..... "
> 
> I love this writing lark, absolutely love it. :) Hugs xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 74 Hours. 74 hours since he had found out that he had a living breathing child, a son.
> 
> Tony angst Tony angst Tony angst

74 Hours. 74 hours since he had found out that he had a living breathing child, a son.    
74 hours and his whole life was a fucking joke. A mistake of such epic proportions that he expected Thor to compose an ode to it as a cautionary tale told to frighten Asgardian children into eating their greens and abandoning world domination plans.  
His past, his present, his future should have been different. He should have had his son by his side. Or at least had proper visitation rights!  
Maya Hansen was a distant memory, or more truthfully someone he didn’t remember at all. Not something he was proud of because he had to do some research to put a face to the name, and he had found her, a fierce eyed dark haired beautiful biologist with an air of competency which must have attracted him because that had been his beach blonde and busty period if he could remember through the alcoholic fog that had shrouded him then. Tony had always had a weakness for a competent human being, male or female. He had programmed his AI to be the ultimate in competent after all.  That’s why he had been so attracted to Pepper in the first place.  
  
Obadiah Stane had better be burning in the depths of Hell for all of eternity, or Tony would find a way to make Hell itself suffer.  
Perhaps Thor could put a word in with his relatives and fix that for him, but after seeing the expression on Point Break’s gorgeous face at Pepper’s revelations, Tony thought that might already be a work in progress. Thor was big into family, really big into family, adopted psychotic world crushing jealous father fixated brothers included.  
Tony had never wanted children. He wasn’t a good enough man to have children. He hadn’t had the type of role model that he could even use as a template, let alone start from scratch. He would never be a good enough man to be a parent, to raise a child. Jarvis and the robots had been his only physical attempts at Procreation. A living, breathing, squalling, eating, dumping, peeing and sleeping Stark DNA filled baby had never been on the cards.

The media called him the eternal man child but Christ on a crutch, his son, his fucking son, his only living and breathing relative was being raised by a fucking assassin who may or may not believe that Tony was behind that douchebag Obadiah’s attempt to make sure that the kid and his Mom were dead.  
A human piece of shit who murdered for money. Just like Barton and Romanov. Because that’s what they were. Make no mistake, even if he personally had no problem with what they were doing now, their past, their present and their future, they were paid assassins.  
They were paid to kill people. Shit he knew he had been called the Merchant of Death so he had no really room to talk.  
But this Johnny Cage, Scimitar? No way was he using Tony’s son to balance the red in his fucking ledger.  
  
74 hours, not including the time Pepper had instructed Jarvis to search and they still had no leads to go on. How the hell had they dropped off the face of the earth?  
He was Antony Edward Stark, the richest man in the world with an IQ off the chart, a suit that had literally saved said world, with access to the kind of information Governments would sell their souls for, if they had any souls, and would willing kneel down before him and become his bitches for just a look inside his mind and they still had no leads to go on.

74 hours since he had found out, and 73 hours since he had locked himself in his lab, away from everyone who had tried to keep the knowledge of his own flesh and blood away from him.

He had not listened to Pepper try to justify her actions. God damn it, SHEILD, fucking Nick Fury and his fucking black suited black hearted stupid shadowy minions had known before he did. All because of his so called best friend and CEO. He should have fired her ass and dumped her in a third world country with no access to designer shoe shops.   
  
He had however taken an hour to listen to Romanov, another traitorous needle stabbing fucking redhead, and her bird brain partner tell him that Scimitar had always, always got to his target, and that destroying lives was his speciality. The bastard son snatcher didn’t need to kill to do it. He had creative, innovative and inventive ways to solve the problem of his targets once he had accepted them. Tony had sat with the rest of his team, Pepper and Rhodey offering commiserations, trying to comfort, until he had told them all to shut up whilst they had listened to Natasha speak without really saying anything.  
  
Clint had whimpered unknowingly at one point, his face surprisingly pale but he had refused to elaborate when the whole room had stared at him, Thor had asked in his deep rumbling voice what ailed him, Steve had his “concerned Captain” face on and Rhodey had watched him in the same way he assessed supposed threats to National Security. Bruce had silently passed Clint a cup of herbal tea whilst Coulson had pressed a hand to his shoulder before backing off again.  
  
Natasha was speaking like an automaton as if she was dredging up painful memories. Who the hell could cause the Black Widow and Hawkeye to falter when they were only discussing someone who supposedly hadn’t been an active assassin for years?  
Tony could feel the same panic building in his chest that he endured if he thought about the Cave and the Ten Rings, or the feeling of Obadiah’s hand tugging at the arc reactor as he lay paralysed listening to the old Bastard laugh at his plight, or that insane and terrifying flight into the nothingness of space. He couldn’t deal with that panic whilst he was surrounded by his team, his friends, they couldn’t know his weakness. He had to get out of there, he had leave them right now or he was going to be a whimpering blubbering mess in a corner, and how could he face any of them then.  
  
Damn Pepper and her bright ideas to bring this to an open forum before he had fully internally digested and dealt with this knowledge. He turned and forced himself to walk from the room, shrugging off Steve’s hand on his shoulder and the oddly comforting “We’ll find him Tony, I swear we’ll find him”, ignoring Pepper’s pleas for him to listen to her, ignoring everything in his need to find solitude and nurse his wounds in private before he fell apart in public.  
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck, his son, his child, had been at that man’s mercy for seventeen years.  
What the hell would he have done to him? Tales of the Red Room and Hydra’s brain washing capabilities burned through his blood, his mind, sickened his soul until he couldn’t sleep.  
So he did what he did best when he couldn’t drink the pain and confusion away, when he refused to allow himself the alcohol because he needed to be able to react as soon as he found out about his boy, he damn well worked like a mad bastard as he waited. The lab was in lock down, no-one was allowed near him, not Bruce, not Pepper, not Rhodey or Steve, he had made Jarvis booby trap the air ducts in case either of the Agent Assassins decided on that route. He revised and reset Jarvis’s search parameters and he just worked in that damn lab. He didn’t even resurface for coffee, allowing Dum-E to supply him with his less than toxic green liquid sludge, ignoring the slow burning need for alcohol to flood his system so that he didn’t need to think anymore. He was a genius futurist but the images in his head of his son’s life, that was even if his son was still alive, locked up his stuttering heart and panicking desperate mind like a vicious clam. He needed to know, this uncertainty was driving him insane.  
  
So he worked, and he deafened himself with ever louder music until when silence fell, it hit the lab like a blow.  He raised his head from his soldering iron but before he could challenge Jarvis, a familiar determined voice spoke.  
“Tony we need to talk”. Tony refused to look behind him, “Jarvis resume music, and I told you to keep the lab on lock down” he ordered coldly and the words to Institutionalized by Suicidal Tendencies blasted their way round the lab “They just keep bugging me, They just keep bugging me”. Pepper lost her temper and swung the stubborn infuriating little shit round to face her. “Damn you Tony, you haven’t been sleeping, you haven’t been eating. Jarvis had no choice but to open the labs up if I initiate the “Tony is being a complete idiot with his health and needs to stop now” protocol. 

Tony blinked those beautiful brown eyes at her, his rant derailed for the time being “There is no such protocol Pepper” he snorted with unwilling amusement “I beg to differ Sir, the protocol is based on the optimum time period before your behaviour causes damage to your physical structure and has been agreed between Ms Potts and myself” Jarvis even sounded smug the traitorous bastard.  
“New AI, Irish, girly voice and obedient to my needs” Tony threatened him again but Jarvis just snorted at him. Jarvis snorted at him, seriously! “You are teaching my kid bad habits Pepper” Tony mocked and then just like that, the ice descended and he was remembering why he was angry with her, with all of them.

Before Pepper could smack the exasperating idiot into the wall with one of her shoes, they were interrupted. 

 “Sir I believe you need to take this call” Tony did not notice the odd intonation in Jarvis’s normally unflappable voice. “For fuck sake Jay, I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed” Tony’s response was viper fast and just as vicious but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Pepper’s furious face.

A strange male voice echoed through the Jarvis’s speakers “Anthony Edward Stark, born May 29th 1970 in Long Island New York.”  
“What, seriously what?” Tony spat “Who the hell are you, what are you doing on my private emergency line and why are you spouting information that is already in the public domain anyway? Jarvis cut this joker off”

The implacable calm voice continued “Perhaps this will make you want to chat. You told my wife after you had sex with her that your favourite flower is the freesia because your Mother loved them so.”  
Pepper stared at Tony wide eyed as he frowned with concentration and then dawning comprehension but he answered smoothly, refusing to acknowledge the sudden tremor in his hands or the burning nervous apprehension and excitement in his gut. Pepper picked up her smartphone and began texting furiously.  
  
“Look if this is some revenge kick then just deal with it Dude, I don’t make a habit of seducing housewives but what can I say I flirt, it’s like breathing, no offence intended”  
Tony knew Jarvis would be recording this conversation, he was trying to drag it out so that Jarvis would have time to trace the call as per standard protocol on his private line. The smirk on Tony’s face was smugly satisfied but his eyes showed how quickly his brain was running through scenarios, possibilities and action plans for the insane hypothesis.

“Don’t worry Mr Stark, you slept with my wife before she became my wife so I can’t blame you for your excellent taste. I am sure that Maya was the most tempting thing at that Science Convention in Bern in 1994.” Conclusion proved. Jesus Christ it was him, it had to be him. How the hell?  
For a few seconds there was silence again, but before Tony or Pepper could speak the voice continued, amusement audible at the start but then the tone of the words became ominous.

“You don’t need to have your minions trace the call Mr Stark, I know you have been trying to find me. My name is Sheriff John Stilinski and we need to talk about my…our son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you hate me, seriously it wasn't supposed to end that way but what the Sheriff wants the Sheriff gets and he wanted this! """Runs away cackling gleefully""" (have started the next chapter but it may not be the first meeting because there is a certain selfish best friend who is going to learn his lesson first... I did mention the cackling didn't I?) Hugs xxx
> 
> P.S. Thank you for all your comments, haven't had a chance to respond yet but I do so love reading them  
> 16/6 Sorry just realised I had messed up the timelines, Maya and Tony met in 94 not 97. All sorted ....


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has an epiphany and puppy dog eyes
> 
> The Sheriff instructs Dr Deaton on the proper care and protection of children, human and supernatural.

Scott had just parked his bike in front of the Vet’s office. It was shut early today, Deaton hadn’t told him why, but he hadn’t told him that he didn’t need to work, and right now he needed his wages. The welfare of the animals couldn’t be ignored. They still needed to be fed, watered and if the dogs were well enough, walked before settling down for the night. The extra money was one way for his Mom to be proud of him again, he thought with angry shame. Then his mind drifted from his Mom back over the day.  
  
Stiles still hadn’t been in School and neither had Allison. His Mom had told him he wasn’t to bother Stiles because he was still recovering from the attack and he didn’t need to deal with any more nonsense. Nonsense? Jesus his Mom had made the fact that her son had been cursed with this awful supernatural bullshit sound like he had been playing with super-glue and fake fur.   
But he had seen the look in her eye and he wasn’t going to disobey her even if he maybe, perhaps, might have detoured past the Stilinski house on the way to work.   
A small part of his fear and anxiety had eased when he heard the familiar rabbit fast beat of Stiles heart coming from his bedroom but he hadn’t tried to stop and go in to see him. He wasn’t even sure what to say to him now he knew what that blackmailing bastard Gerard had done to him. “Hey Dude. Sorry my head was so far up my own ass that I didn’t realise you were being tortured?”    
That just didn’t seem to cut it. Stiles and he had gotten into some stupid shit over the years and both taken the fall for it, coming out stronger, better and closer, but lately whilst Scott had been trying to get a handle on what was happening to him, he had just endangered his best friend and brother and he hadn’t even been aware that Stiles was in danger and had been hurt.   
He had been too focused on that super mysterious stupid plan that he and Deaton had come up with. Or rather Deaton had come up with and twisted it to make it look like it was Scott’s idea. As if he wasn’t well aware of it when that happened, cos Stiles had been doing it to him for years.  Stiles might think he was dumb sometimes but seriously he knew what his friend was up to, he was just too lazy to do anything about it. ‘Sides sometimes Stiles’ ideas rocked and sometimes they freaking sank without trace but nearly always they were great fun.  
  
Just maybe with his new found abilities he wanted to be able to sort something himself without running to Stiles to save his ass, and maybe there was some residual resentment and blame for the stupid decision to go out that night that ended with him being bitten by a feral Peter Hale, and maybe his first instinct was to blame Stiles for the way his own Mom had looked at him like he was a monster all the while she had stunk of fear of her own son.   
And didn’t that realisation just kick him in the nuts. That his Mom was afraid of him and that he still blamed Stiles for all of it. He loved the guy but sometimes it was easier to focus on Allison, on the pleasure and need coursing through both him and his wolf when he was near her, the pride and satisfaction of finally belonging with the cool crowd after being on the outside looking in, the way it appealed to his ego and the way his wolf preened at the not so subtle admiration, he was the freaking co-captain of the lacrosse team, Jackson douchebag Whittemore could bite his sexy werewolf ass.  
  
It was so much easier dealing with the other stuff, easier not to be around Stiles, not to watch the light in those amber eyes and the cheeky grin on his face dim because Scott truly didn’t want to blame him but he didn’t know how to stop. Not even the guilt at nearly killing Stiles himself with his first out of control change had really dented the anger he still felt towards him. In fact there was almost some satisfaction that Stiles had felt the same terror that he had when he had been bitten. That was just so damn sick man. Stiles was his best friend, his brother. He had been there when his father was being an utter douchebag, breaking his Mom's heart.  
It was only when Derek had bluntly told him that Stiles had been hurt by that psycho Gerard that something had finally snapped in Scott. That angry bitter resentment he had held on to despite the way his life had seemed to get better, dissipated like mist on a summer morning when he realised what could have happened to Stiles.  

He needed to talk to his best friend, he needed to apologise and he didn’t know how to.   
His Mom was no help, banning him from speaking to him. He needed to make this right. Yeah they had gone out to the Preserve that night because of Stiles but damn it he had agreed to it, he could have said no. He had no difficulty saying no to Stiles now. And Stiles was doing his best to protect him, to help him even lying to his Dad. Scott could see the way this shit was affecting Stiles’ relationship with his Dad, and he had ignored that too.  What kind of a selfish dick had he been, that he had seen all that and not cared enough to do anything about it?  
Maybe that was it, maybe he could apologise to Stiles through actions instead of words. He wasn’t as good with words as Stiles, but he could do this. He could repair some of the damage that this supernatural shit fest had caused to Stiles and his Dad.  
  
He needed to speak to the Sheriff, and then ask his advice. Uncle John would help him. He might ream him out but he would help him sort things out with Stiles once Scott had told him what was going on so that he understood why Stiles had behaved that way, that Stiles loved his Dad so much that he had to try to protect him.  Christ he hadn’t called the Sheriff Uncle John since they had both started High School. And if Derek freaking Hale had a problem with the Sheriff being told about their furry freak problem well then he would have to go through Scott first before he let him hurt Stiles or his Dad. He might be a god damn Alpha but Derek wasn’t his Alpha and Scott would protect his own pack. Pack? Damn when had his wolf decided that Stiles and his Dad was pack? Well hell, hadn’t he just proved his reputation for being a dumbass right. Stiles would always be pack, he was his brother. 

Scott finished locking up his bike, not that he thought there was much chance of it being stolen outside the Vet’s office. It was in a reasonably good part of town and much as he loved it, it did look like a shabby piece of junk, nearly as bad as Stiles’ Jeep. No one wanted to steal that either.

He would find a way to speak to the Sheriff tonight, away from Stiles because he knew his friend would not be happy, but Scott had to do this. Stiles needed his Dad, and the more his Dad knew the more he could help Scott protect Stiles and his Mom.   
He just had to find the courage to do it. His Mom's reaction had not been the best, but if there was one trait that both Stiles and Scott shared, it was sheer bloody-minded stubbornness and if he couldn’t find the courage then he damn well knew he could find that bred in the bone stubborn determination once he had made his mind up.

He felt better after making a decision, it was not knowing what to do that tore his guts up and froze his brain like a slurpee.

Scott was at the front entrance trying to find the keys to unlock the office when the door swung open.

“Uncle John?” 

* * *

 

 

“Tell me about Peter Hale” the order in the calm voice didn’t seem to have any effect on the impassive Dr Deaton.  “Is this why you asked me to close the office Sheriff?” Deaton asked, wry amusement in his eyes. “I am afraid that I don’t understand the request” he answered confidently making no attempt to address the topic.

Ice blue eyes studied him, the Sheriff was not wearing his uniform, but instead was all in black including a pair of gloves which had caused Deaton some unease but this was the County Sheriff so he knew he had nothing really to fear. It was unfortunate that he was asking about the rogue Alpha but Deaton did not intend to tell him anything. The man and his office would be kept ignorant of the supernatural, it would be too dangerous to have local enforcement officers investigating now that the Nemeton was attracting more trouble to the area. Peter Hale would be dealt with by the Alpha pack one way or the other, they would either kill him or recruit him, Deaton didn’t care which, just that it restored balance to the Nemeton.  Alan knew they were already in Beacon Hills even if the surviving Hales didn’t. Then there was the Kanima, again it would be dealt with by the Alpha pack especially since Peter was now directing it not Gerard Argent. Scott would have taken care of that insane hunter before he could do further damage and then take his place as rightful True Alpha, Derek would get used to being a Beta again and if he didn’t well that was his choice. He had still kept his promise to Talia Hale, he had saved her son’s life. But the Nemeton had to be returned to balance, that was his priority.

Deaton stared expressionlessly at the Sheriff. There was no way the man could make him speak about anything he didn't want to, and of course there was no way Stilinski knew about the supernatural. He had impressed upon Stiles just how dangerous it would be to inform his father and he knew Derek would have probably threaten both Stiles and Scott if they attempted to reveal anything. Deaton didn't know why the Sheriff had insisted that he shut up shop early or why he wasn't wearing his uniform but he also didn't really care. He would humour the man just enough to get him off his back.

The Sheriff began to speak, his tone as cold as ice.

“You have allowed terrified inept almost helpless children, and I include Derek Hale in that description, to fight for their very lives against superior stronger and vicious bigoted hate filled adults without giving them all the assistance you are capable of. You have targeted a vulnerable newly turned teenage werewolf and turned him away from the advice and guidance of a born werewolf desperate to help him. And what’s even worse is that as a result of this deliberate policy of bullshit mystery and vagueness you have endangered the life of my son. Now unfortunately for you, I have a real big problem with ass-holes who endanger children, you could say that it even made me rethink my life choices and made me change my career. The fact that one of those children you have endangered is my son, that could possibly be a life limiting mistake Alan so I would seriously suggest you re-think your silence is the best policy bullshit”

Dr Deaton’s face was still impassive as he listened to the Sheriff, but small tendrils of warning began to trickle through his mind as he saw the man reach into his pocket and pull out a gun. Ridiculous this was the Sheriff, known to be a good man and honourable police officer, up holder of the law. Then the man reached into another pocket and pulled out a small cylindrical tube which he began to fix to the barrel of the gun, slowly turning it in circles without even bothering to take his hard gaze away from Deaton’s face, as if he had done the same thing many times and it was now a muscle memory that needed no extra attention.

There was no time for the warning to turn to fear because at the end of the Sheriff’s little speech, there was a strange quiet popping noise and then Alan Deaton was staring down in horrified surprise at the blood dripping from his arm to the floor, before the burning pain of a bullet hole in his upper right arm shrieked through his body with the force of whirlwind.

Above the sound of his terrified heartbeat and the pain singing in his veins he heard the Sheriff calmly repeat “Tell me about Peter Hale, the rogue Alpha werewolf” 

* * *

  
Sheriff Stilinski raised his eyebrow at Scott. “You haven’t called me that in a long time Kiddo”. Suddenly he had an armful of tearful teenage boy. The Sheriff stared down at Scott in surprise but didn’t push him away.

“I've messed up Uncle John, I've been such an idiot and Stiles got hurt because if it, and he thinks you hate him cos he had to lie to you to protect you and I should have made him tell you, m’sorry so sorry, I’m an idiot. Please help me. I need to make things right” the frantic mumbled words made the kid hug onto him even tighter, his face buried in the man’s shoulder.

The Sheriff coughed, with just a bit of exaggeration but damn the kid was strong now. “Scott I need to breathe” he spoke sternly but there was a hint of laughter in his voice that Scott heard and the boy relaxed his desperate hold on the only proper father figure he had ever had.  Wet brown eyes looked up at him, Scott had perfected that pathetic puppy look years before he had been turned into a werewolf the Sheriff thought with amusement.  
He cupped Scott’s face with one hand, wiping away an escaped tear. The kid whispered, despair in his voice and his eyes “I need to tell you something, only please don’t hate me Sir”

The Sheriff wondered with fond exasperation which of his boys was the bigger drama queen. Stiles was his son but Scott had sneaked his sunny lovable way into his affections a very long time ago, and Stiles loved him. Only Scott would chose an empty parking lot to blurt out that he was a werewolf to the father of his best friend who was also the County Sheriff. He managed not to roll his eyes at the boy and instead decided to cut the kid some slack.  

“I know you are a werewolf Scott” he stated kindly and the boy’s eyes widened with shock, as he took a deep breath “You’re not scared of me Uncle John” he stated with absolute certainty and a little bit of awe. Then he whispered again “Mom’s scared of me” and the heartbreak in Scott’s voice made the Sheriff wince. “Melissa is more scared for you now Scott” he offered comfortingly as the kid hid his face in his shoulder again. The Sheriff patted Scott’s back soothingly until the trembling had stopped and the boy drew in a deep breath as he raised his head again. A slight flush covered his cheeks as he swiped at his face, clearing away any trace of tears, before he looked the Sheriff in the face with a puzzled frown.

“Uncle John, why do you smell of blood, Dr Deaton’s blood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay in posting this chapter was unintentional my dears because of another pesky hospital stay. I am out now and the story shall continue !!!  
> My apologies for not responding to your lovely and fascinating comments, love the way you guys think and just run with this story. I know some of my other stories are pro Sterek because please they are perfect for each other but this one is not going to be slash. (Though I have developed a sneaky fascination for Tony and the Sheriff, an odd pairing but I might keep it in mind for another little venture into this particular AU) This is all about the parent and child relationship and damn it the gorgeous BAMF Sheriff as my instrument of revenge against the criminally neglectful adults in that show. (Sorry I have just put the soapbox away now)  
> Hope to have the next chapter up at the weekend but it depends on how it pans out though it should include the big reveal.... I am havering between Stiles and his Dad having a chat before the flying red and gold avenger turns up or Tony spilling the beans himself to Stiles. Comments on preferences and suggestions are very welcome but please don't be disappointed if I don't follow your suggestions because my writing takes on a life of its own and surprises even me sometimes. One last thing, no infringement intended, just having a wonderful time playing in someone else's sandbox. Hugs xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony read Jarvis’s report obsessively. The holographic picture of his son was so realistic he expected the kid to speak. His voice, he wanted to know what the boy sounded like, He wondered how it had changed over the years. Did he speak slowly or quickly? Probably quickly if that diagnosis of ADHD was anything to go by. He probably moved like a hummingbird, fast enough to seem frantic but with his own strange quirky grace.

Tony read Jarvis’s report obsessively. The holographic picture of his son  was so realistic he expected the kid to speak. His voice, he wanted to know what the boy sounded like, He wondered how it had changed over the years. Did he speak slowly or quickly. Probably quickly if that diagnosis of ADHD was anything to go by. He probably moved like a hummingbird, fast enough to seem frantic but with his own strange quirky grace.  
He stared at those whiskey amber eyes in that young face and could have been looking into his own eyes. The kid was pale. Too pale, he needed some vitamin D. Sunlight. He needed sunlight. A beach holiday in Miami maybe, now Tony had renovated the Miami estate. The kid could frolic on the sand and in the sea all day. Kids liked that didn’t they playing on a beach? He could get one of those professional sand sculptors to build a replica working castle the kid could play in. Cool with a moat and drawbridge and crenellations and Hell he could hire some of those larping dorks and really give the kid something to get creative in the sun with. Okay, okay this was not good, this was going over the top.  
Stiles wasn’t a little kid, he was a teenager, but hell Tony could build him his own trebuchet to demolish the castle. Maybe they could even do it together. That could be fun. Nothing like blowing things up to cement a father son relationship. He’d never blown anything up with Howard so by default it should work. Tony Stark’s kid wasn’t going to be stuck with a bucket and space.  
Tony took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. He was panicking and throwing money at a problem yet again. How did he deal with this? How did he start? How could he make the kid like him? How could he live up to that bastard Stilinski? Where was Pep? He needed to talk to her, he needed to…  

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a heavy hard hand clapped him on the shoulder and Thor leant towards the hologram, his other huge hand moving towards the boy’s face with utter fascination. “Truly Man of Iron, you have a beautiful child.” Tony heard the smile in the God of Thunder’s voice even if he wasn’t looking at Thor’s face. “We will hold a mighty celebration when he is rightfully in your care and sing him stories of your noble and great deeds. A child should know that his father is a hero”

Tony looked at him in disbelief, “Thor what part of the Sheriff’s little speech did you miss? I know damn well that you and the rest all heard it. You were standing right there with the others”

Thor’s luminous shrewd blue eyes caught Tony’s gaze and the smile softened from gleeful to understanding. Tony had long got over his surprise at Thor’s intelligence. The Asgardian might look like an overgrown puppy in fancy dress and speak like someone from a bad rendition of one of Shakespeare’s plays but he was nobody’s fool, well except for that wilful blind spot when it came to his little brother, but Tony thought the Prince enjoyed his reputation as the nice but dim muscle man a bit too much, He was a damn troll. He had often seen the wicked gleam in the Alien’s eyes when his comments sucked the others into longwinded and ludicrous explanations.  
His Hammery Highness wasn’t above using it on any reporters or press that annoyed him either. The little episode with the Fox News Presenter and her double entendre about Thor’s hammer when Thor proceeded to give chapter and verse on Molnjir’s history and composition for twenty minutes while she sat there going glassy eyed unable to stop him and then politely informed her that she couldn’t unfortunately stroke it because it would shoot lightning out at her before turning to wink at the camera and then walking away roaring with laughter had to be in the top ten of Tony’s favourite ways to mess with the press. The guy was a goddamn genius at Trolling.

“Anthony, friend and Shield brother, the man fears for the child’s safety and who better than the Avengers to protect the boy. He will be part of your life”. The utter confidence in the Thor’s voice eased some of the frantic brain activity which hadn’t allowed Tony to eat or sleep properly for the two days since the Sheriff’s call out of the blue.  
Thor’s hand slapped Tony’s shoulder and grinned as he informed the stunned Stark that he was off to rescue his Lady Jane from the infernal machines she adored and convey her to lunch. A long lunch where he hoped to make her forget about the infernal machines and he winked again damn him.

Tony rubbed at the dull ache in shoulder ruefully, as his mind flitted back to the unexpected conversation with the Sheriff.

Pepper’s text’s had drawn Steve, Natasha and Coulson to the lab at a run. Thor, Clint and Bruce were in the common room, enjoying a coffee when Jarvis had begun to relay the call directly to them.  They all heard

“You don’t need to have your minions trace the call Mr Stark, I know you have been trying to find me. My name is Sheriff John Stilinski and we need to talk about my…our son.”

The amusement had dropped from his voice as he finished the sentence, his tone hard and implacable.

So many questions raced through Tony’s brain but what came out of his mouth was instinct

“The boy, tell me he is ok?” The plea in his voice was unmistakeable. The shock on his team mates faces would have made Tony laugh if he had seen it. Tony Stark was loud, arrogant, charismatic, obnoxious, charming, but he never begged. The Billionaire didn’t understand the concept. In the common room, a tinge of green lit Bruce’s eyes. In the lab Thor’s normal sunny expression was as black and threatening as the storm clouds he ruled and Steve winced, as he pushed back the deep pity that had rushed through his body when he heard that tone. The Shield Agent’s expressions became blanker as if they were locking everything down in preparation for the oncoming offensive.

There was an uncomfortable period when no one was sure if the Sheriff was going to respond and while they waited Jarvis had accessed his details and began to display them on holographs both in the lab and the common room, Maps and pictures of the small town of Beacon Hills. Newspaper cuttings of John Stilinski, his wife and new born son being welcomed by the Sheriff as a new Deputy, of the first time he won the election for Sheriff with his smiling wife and small son, then the funeral of his wife with a little boy dressed in a suit and bow tie. Everything that Jarvis could find was being displayed in the air like a mad jigsaw puzzle.

“Well, maybe you aren’t such a total asshole after all” the Sheriff’s words seemed somehow gentler even with the scornful content. “Stiles is safe and recovering” he conceded

“What the hell is a Stiles?” was Tony’s first distracted response and then more urgently “What do you mean recovering you bastard what did you do to him?” Tony spat without thinking and then listened with disbelief as the man sighed with long suffering amused exasperation. The quietly murmured “Well he had to get it from somewhere I suppose” was only picked up because of Jarvis’s enhancements but they all heard it, and it shocked Tony to the core.  
“For the love of bright and shiny things Stark, I thought you were supposed to be fucking intelligent. Genim Mariusz Stilinski is the light of my life, the apple of my eye, my reason for living.  I don’t know how many more ways there are to say this. He is my son and I love him. He prefers to be called Stiles because his mother called him Genim and he doesn’t want anyone else calling him that after she died.”

Tony took a deep steadying breath, he was proud of the control he had over his voice “Why did you contact me?” he asked.

“That’s a long and involved story Stark and I don’t have the time to go into it now, but Stiles needs help. I have done what I can but I don’t have the firepower for this. You do. Come to Beacon Hills in five days’ time and you can meet Stiles and I will tell you what’s going on. I do not want to see Shield spooks or your playmates in my town before then,”

There was a roar of rage from behind Tony.

“Child thief you took his son and you dare to dictate terms to Anthony” Thor’s voice was terrifying in the lab, but it didn’t seem to faze the Sheriff. 

“I saved my son and his mother, their lives were being threatened by his pseudo grandfather” the Sheriff spoke calmly as if an irate Alien God was as challenging as issuing a parking ticket.

Thor ignored his words and rolled on “You stole all the moments a father should have with his son” The Sheriff’s answer was straight and to the point. “This is not your family Thor, and since I was paid through Anthony Edward Stark’s personal account, it was quite feasible that he was involved on the hit on my wife.”

Tony paled. What the fuck? Before he could open his mouth to retort. Steve Rogers raised his voice “How dare you insinuate such a thing about Tony?” It was Captain America speaking, outrage at the injustice ringing in his tone.  Before the Sheriff could reply, Thor carried on, menace and promise lacing his words.

“Do you seriously believe that you can stop the Avengers coming for you child thief?”

The rest of the team listened in disbelief as the bastard just laughed. “Well yes I do” he responded.  Then the voice became darker “My son nearly killed himself in the mistaken belief he was protecting me. Do you seriously think he will want anything to do with you if you attempt to come for me Stark? I will tell him who you are but on my schedule not yours." There was a pause and then he said reluctantly "His middle name means Mario in Polish. She named him for your mother Stark. Don't make me regret this.5 Days”  
Silence hit the lab and the common room as the connection was cut off.

The Sheriff looked at the handset ruefully and raised an eyebrow. “ 24 hours if I am lucky, 24 hours before they turn up"

 

Stiles phone lit up like the freaking meteor shower the night before the Triffids landed on Earth. Damn he loved that BBC mini-series with Dougray Scott and Eddie Izzard, he’d become so obsessed with it he had even watched the movie with Howard Keel, but he hadn’t told a soul. Not even Scott. He wasn’t sure even their epic bromance could survive the fact that he had voluntarily watched a Howard Keel movie, but at least the Guy hadn’t been singing! Just battling ten foot walking carnivorous plants.

Stiles had been couch surfing with the TV remote trying to find something on Netflix that would take his mind off his freaking ribs and the rest of the aches and pains his body was subjecting him to. His Dad had popped out for some groceries, taking the Jeeps keys with him the sneaky sly Sheriffy paternal person that he was. Not that Stiles would have gone out with his Dad not around, well maybe not, well yeah okay, he could have taken the opportunity to get hold of the bloody pack and Scott to find out what was going on. He was going out of his freaking mind not knowing and with his Dad hovering over him he just couldn’t catch a break to get hold of anyone. His Dad had even managed to lock down Stiles phone so he could only make emergency calls. How, just how? This was the guy who could barely operate a kitchen appliance and suddenly he’s a techno whizz with Stiles’ damn phone.

And the good lord only knew where his laptop was. He hadn’t seen it since his Dad had brought him home from the Emergency room. He had tried asking once and his Dad had raised one eyebrow at him as if daring him to continue and suddenly Stiles hadn’t felt the need to use the internet, do his homework, skype, access his rarely used facebook page or any such obviously life threatening potentially dangerous inappropriate things while Stiles was being a good son and staying still and healing.  Nope No Sir, Mr Sheriff Sir. No need for web browsing. Laptop what’s a laptop? If he didn’t know better he would think he had been grounded but his Dad wouldn’t be cruel enough to punish him for getting his ass kicked. He had tried to sneakily search for it a few times but his Dad was on his butt like a freaking tail. He just seemed to know if the word laptop crossed Stiles’s brain. And up he popped, arms folded and with that scarily unimpressed look.  Damn the man was good. No wonder he was Sheriff.

This mysterious puzzle wrapped in an enigma was driving his nuts. What was his Dad doing? Good question what was his Dad doing? Excellent question, what was his Dad doing? Forget the damn laptop and damn it hurt something deep inside his soul to think that, but what was his Dad doing now?  
He was only supposed to get some groceries, not harvest the wheat fields and bake the bread himself. He’d been gone for absolutely hours, and Stiles didn’t have his car keys…. Grrrrr. Maybe he could hot wire…. Damn what was he thinking? How could he even contemplate damaging his darling? Sorry baby so sorry.  Jeez how long did the Guy need to pick up the necessities like Reeses Peanut butter Cups and his head was starting to pound again although his Dad had given him the good stuff before he had left, hours, nay eons ago, and then had the cheek to threaten him with an enforced nap if he didn’t stay on the couch. He wouldn’t have put it past the man to put flour on the floor just to check if Stiles had moved. Paranoid much Dad? What the hell, he wasn’t a freaking toddler and he would stamp his damn foot at anyone who called him one. It was embarrassing, it was worrying all this attention he was getting from his Dad. And even if a small, tiny, miniscule minute part of Stiles really, really liked it. He had missed his Dad since this stupid supernatural smorgasbord had started, even though the man hadn’t gone anywhere. But Stiles had. Stiles had abandoned him because he was scared for him.  
Stiles couldn’t stop the warm happiness of just being with his Dad again, and it made that shit with the Psycho Argent fade into the background just a little. But there was too much that could go wrong if his Dad was focused on him, if his Dad had decided to become overprotective.  Shit what if he… but Stiles didn’t finish that thought because his phone threw an epic meltdown. His Dad might have unlawfully imprisoned the ability for Stiles to make calls, texts, emails and the internet but he hadn’t stopped anything incoming. Yay.  
The first text he saw was from Danny “WTF Dude, your Dad arrested the Principal… for being a pedo”

Scott’s texts were almost incoherent, no change there, but Stiles could almost feel the glee seeping through the touch screen. “Bro, Bro, F**k, Amazing f**king amazing. Your Dad Bro”

Stiles started to shake, he couldn’t read any more. He ignored the calls coming through. What the hell? Had his Dad lost the plot? What just what? Ice was travelling through his veins. How could he keep his Dad safe? How? What was he going to do? Where was his Dad? It had all gone wrong. Hunters, they had him. That’s why he was so long. God, God. Dad. He could feel the panic attack take hold, his vision fading, heart pounding, he couldn’t breathe, his Dad was gonna die, he couldn’t breathe, there was no oxygen left in his world. He was gonna lose his Dad like he had lost his Mom. No. No. Dad, Dad. No. No Daddy No.

Large familiar hands led him back to the couch, sat him down and held onto his shaking cold hands, a calm soothing loved voice coaxed him to breath, in and out, counting to three. Stiles couldn’t stop the shudders jerking his body like a puppet on a string.  
Gentle fingers wiped at the tears on his cheeks and the voice just continued until the panic receded enough from his mind for him to clutch at his father’s chest and whimper “Can’t lose you Dad, can’t cant” over and over and over, until finally there was a long pause and at last a muffled “bugger” came out of the head that was buried in the Sheriff’s collar bone,  
“Well that was fucking intense” the rueful embarrassed words drifted upwards but Stiles kept his head tucked into his father’s shoulder as if he was too shy to face him. ”Language Kid. Found out your old Man did more than the grocery shopping today huh?”

Stiles head popped up like a meerkat on protection duty, and he glared at his father, any embarrassment forgotten.  “Seriously Dad, seriously” he almost growled. The streaks of angry red across his cheeks only emphasised how abnormally pale his face had gone from the panic attack.

The loving concern on the man’s face morphed into something more determined and implacable. “Think it’s time for that long overdue talk about life choices Sweetheart, but first you want to tell me why the arrest of a child abuser caused you to freak out so badly you had a panic attack?”

Stiles opened his mouth, blinked his eyes and then closed his mouth again. What the hell could he even say to that? How could he tell his Dad?

Then he saw the old familiar expression of mixed disbelief, amusement and scolding cross his Dad’s face.

“Seriously Stiles, Seriously” his Dad parroted Stiles’s earlier words then blew his son’s little mind “Damn kid if you wanted a dog we could have talked about it but Werewolves, actual honest to god Werewolves?”

Stiles eyes were so wide that he thought they were gonna slide off the sides of his face.  
He’d stopped breathing. He couldn’t take his eyes from his father’s face. “Dad” he whimpered as cold dread filled his veins. His Dad reached over and hugged him close again “We’re okay Genim, everything is okay. Daddy is taking care of it. Gerard Argent is going to jail for a very long time, with his reputation shot to shit. Victoria Argent is being inducted into the Hale pack, Chris Argent is being investigated for illegal firearms activity which will keep him and his merry band of murderous pricks in line, you don’t need to worry about Scott anymore because he will become part of Derek’s pack, or he will answer to me and our town vet Alan Deaton is going to be much more helpful and informative now, so there is no more need for teenagers to be running around trying to deal with this secretive supernatural shit alone.  So you don’t have to be scared any more Sweetheart. You will not put yourself in danger because of this freaky fairy tale horror story again, are we clear baby boy?” The Sheriff diplomatically didn't mention that Stiles also now had his own Alpha Werewolf bodyguard. He could just imagine the reaction he would get to that little gem.

Then he laughed, his Dad freaking laughed and with a shit eating grin told him to breathe again.  Stiles was confused, why was his Dad being so understanding of his lies and deceptions, instead of really laying into him?  
Then he scared the poopy poop out of Stiles again because suddenly the laughter was gone and there was actual fear in his Dad’s face as he said ruefully “There is something I need to talk to you about Kiddo. Just don’t hate me”

“When I met your Mom, she was already pregnant with you” His Dad rushed the words out as if saying it quickly would make it better. It had never worked for Stiles either.

Stiles’ heart rate calmed down from Mach1, shit he had been worried for a moment, he couldn’t understand what his Dad would consider worse that the Werewolf situation. He had honestly even been considering an invasion by Orcs, Dwarves, Dragons and hobbits.

“Oh that” he shrugged as he went to sit back down on the couch. It was his Dad’s turn to stare at him goggle eyed. “Stiles did you hear what I said?” he asked tentatively

Stiles’s confusion was obvious “Why are we talking about the sperm donor Dad? Mom told me ages ago. She was pregnant and in trouble, you rescued her, love at first sight yada yada” He shrugged his shoulders “Don’t know what the big deal is, you are my Dad”

There was a broken chuckle and then the Sheriff ducked his head for a second as he took a deep breath. “You never cease to amaze Kid. I love you Stiles” he voice was a bit strained when he said the words and Stiles was horrified to see a tear run down his old man’s face.

But his shoulders had relaxed and something loosened in Stiles chest when his father came to sit by him. He flung an arm around the boy’s shoulders “We need to talk about the sperm donor son. But first, if I ever catch you in an armoured flying suit, you will be grounded til you are thirty, are we clear?”

“Dad?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Been a bit under the weather. So this is slightly longer than usual.   
> The next one up is the big meet.   
> Can I just thank you all for your fabulous comments. So pleased you are all enjoying it   
> Hugs xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles walked gingerly and slowly through the grounds of the County Cemetery. He was wearing his favourite red hoody even though it wasn’t that cold. It was useful to hide the bruises on his arms. He couldn’t do much about his face but he did have the hood pulled up to try to avoid anyone seeing the damage that psycho bastard had caused. 
> 
> Stiles needs to talk to his Mom.

Stiles walked gingerly and slowly through the grounds of the County Cemetery. He was wearing his favourite red hoody even though it wasn’t that cold. It was useful to hide the bruises on his arms. He couldn’t do much about his face but he did have the hood pulled up to try to avoid anyone seeing the damage that psycho bastard had caused.  
  
It was mid-afternoon, and fairly quiet except for a few people dotted about. There had been a couple of white SUVs with out of town plates in the parking lot which caused Stiles to hesitate for a second but hunters normally went with the ubiquitous black as if it made them more badass. Ha. As if. In a fit of mischief he had pulled up alongside some fancy shmancy red roadster that looked like it had been abandoned by some arrogant rich jerk and a chunky motorbike parked really politely next to it. How the hell did someone park politely? But the whole chunky motorcycle positioning gave off a weirdly polite vibe. Damn he was losing it. What did he know about motorbikes?  
It just looked suped up and chunky and nothing like Scott's less than impressive ride. You would need some musculature to move that mother. He parked his beloved old Jeep properly in deference to the unknown biker with  good manners. Plus he hoped his jeep would annoy the crap out of the douchebag who had abandoned the roadster.  
  
It made him smirk with amusement and for a second forget about the difficult conversation with his Dad.   
When his Mom had told him about the sperm donor, he hadn’t thought much about it. His Daddy was his Daddy was his Daddy. End of. The sperm donor didn’t even know about him. But when she had died, he had been terrified that some stranger would turn up and take him away from his Daddy and he would lose him too. He had clung to his father with a desperation that made the man seek advice from child grief counsellors. So little Stiles had made plans. He had created safe hiding places in the house (and would have been devastated to realise that his Dad knew where each and every one was) and even in the Preserve behind the back yard. Not too far in because his Daddy didn’t like him exploring in the Preserve but there was a big oak tree that was easy to climb and it had a great big hole that must have been a squirrel’s home or something where Stiles had hidden his batman torch, some matches he had stolen because his Dad hated him playing with matches, a jar of peanut butter (Stiles wanted to leave some Reeses Peanut butter cups but he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist them and there had to be food in his hideout, he had learnt that from his research) and a bottle of water. He didn’t have a pocket knife but he had saved some plastic cutlery from a trip to MacDonald’s and he’d put some comics in a Ziploc bag because he wasn’t sure how long he would have to stay to avoid the stranger danger. Inside one of the comics was a precious picture of his Mom and Dad smiling at each other. Stiles wondered if his treasures were still there. It had been years since he had last checked to make sure he was ready to escape.

Stiles was brought back from the past as he stumbled over a small stone and his ribs shrieked at him like a banshee. He came to a stop and took shallow breaths to try to deal with the sudden pain. His eyes sweeping the pretty peaceful and lush cemetery for a distraction. Any distraction. Anything at all any deity looking down with grace upon him listening. Then he remembered that you should always be careful what you wished for.

The only reason Stiles took any real notice of them was because the small slender red headed lady who’s head was resting on her muscular fair headed husband’s shoulder over at the garden of remembrance for young children reminded him of Lydia. He winced and looked away from the man trying to comfort her by whispering in her ear. Losing a kid must be awful. Sunlight glinted off something in the lady’s hair and her wrist and Stiles was once more reminded of Lydia. He hadn’t heard from her for ages. He hoped to God that she was okay and Derek still didn’t believe she was the murderous Kanima. Seriously Lydia Martin spitting venom and turning into a reptile? Not in a million trillion years. There was no such thing as designer spit. Well he hoped like hell there wasn’t.    
Maybe he could convince his Dad to release his phone so that he could contact her now that he had allowed him to come to see Mom. In fact it had been Dad’s idea that he come. They never spoke about it but his father knew that Stiles regularly updated his Mom on what was happening and what was troubling him.  Stiles still wasn’t sure he believed his Dad. The whole thing was too fucking farfetched. Werewolves he could deal with. Furry friends with PMS and too sharp teeth wasn’t really that much of a stretch of the imagination but this? He knew his Dad had been speaking the truth but it blew his freaking mind. He needed to talk to his Mom.

He trod more carefully and slowly, shoulders slumped as it was easier on his ribs and seriously he really didn’t want to talk to anyone he knew. Isaac would be at school.

“Stiles Stilinski” Fuck his life, wasn’t that just typical. He heard his name called and saw old Mrs Oakley waving at him from her husband’s grave. For a second he hesitated then he saw how hopefully she was looking at him and the bright yellow sunflowers she held in her hand. He knew she picked them from her own garden, sunflowers that were descended from the ones her husband had planted years before. She never bought him anything else.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall blonde haired guy in the open leather jacket, plaid shirt and jeans who had been reading a book on the wooden seat dedicated to an ex-Mayor of the town start to get up, but as Stiles moved towards the old lady he settled back down again, rubbing at his ear as he picked up his discarded book.

Stiles came to a stop next to the elderly woman and pulled his hood down, knowing he was about to be interrogated much more successfully than his Dad could ever manage. He smiled ruefully down into the familiar lined face and warm but sharp faded blue eyes. “Hey Mrs O. Do you need some help?”  Those brown eyes swept over him and then rested on his gruesomely coloured face.  
“I hope the Sheriff shot the little bastard who did that to you Sweetheart” the old lady smiled sweetly through the venomous words.  
Stiles let out a crack of laughter then groaned as his ribs protested “Please Ma’am it hurts to laugh” he smiled at her, as he took the flowers and knelt down beside Bernard Peter Oakley’s grave. He carefully removed the old flowers, filled the urn with water from the bottle the old lady had brought and then arranged the fresh flowers under her strict direction.  
As he got to his feet again, very carefully, the old lady took hold of one of his hands. “Are you being bullied boy?” she demanded sternly. “No Ma’am, Lacrosse” Stiles hoped that would be the end of it, but the little old lady continued. “Stiles if your Daddy can’t sort it, I will. I hate bullies and you are a good boy.” Stiles tried to speak but she carried on as if he hadn’t even opened his mouth, “Now tell your Daddy I am baking at the end of the week so he needs to send one of his Deputies to pick the cakes and cookies up. Preferably that nice young Jordan Parrish. That boy sure has a sweet ass on him”  “Ma’am” Stiles spluttered at the words and the accompanying smirk. How was this his life? The old lady’s naughty smile turned softer and kinder as she pulled a single sunflower from the urn. “Here Sweetheart, take that to your Momma and say hello to that lovely lady from me”

“Please Ma’am, it hurts to cry” whispered Stiles, his vision blurry as he brushed a kiss against the soft lined cheek. 

After they said their goodbyes, Stiles made his way towards the back half of the cemetery where his Mom had been buried. She was beneath the trees so she had shade from the heat and protection from the cold of the winter. His Mom hadn’t really liked the winter.

He was smiling down at the sunflower in his hands so he didn’t notice anything strange until he was almost at his Mom’s grave. So he also didn’t see the tense man in the Armani suit and aviator glasses standing in the shadows beneath the large oak tree off to the left.  
It was the perfume that made him raise his head in curiosity. It was almost overpowering. Sweet and fresh. Stiles eyes widened in shock.

His Mom’s grave was covered, literally covered from head to toe with hundreds and hundreds of delicate multi coloured flowers, individually they looked fragile as if a breath of wind would blow them away but together they made his mom’s grave look like the floral bower of a fairy princess. He inhaled the perfume as his brain was frantically racing through questions, answers, facts, thoughts. Jesus had he taken his Adderall today?

The name of the flowers popped into his head as he tugged his cell out of his hoody pocket. Freesias. They were Freesias. He had to speak to his Dad. What the hell was going on?

He raised his head as he waited for the dial tone to connect. Thank Christ his Dad had left access to his number as an emergency contact.  He heard his father’s voice say his name but his cell fell from suddenly nerveless fingers as he saw the man who stepped out of the shadows of the trees. He watched as if everything was happening in slow motion as the man removed the sunglasses, running his free hand through the thick black hair and spoiling the trademark haircut.

He saw the man’s tongue sweep nervously over his moustache encircled lips before he seemed to draw his normal charismatic confidence to the fore and he stepped closer.

Amber eyes met amber eyes, and the man flashed his legendary smirk. He spread his arms wide as that famous voice lightly mocked

“Hey kid, got a hug for your old man”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapter, I managed to get this part of the confrontation written. I know I love my cliff hangers darlings but they are very good at keeping me on track and motivated The second part of this is a bit more difficult to write even though its already started but it will take me a little while longer to iron ( ha iron get it ha!) out to my satisfaction. But I do have a confession. I have written most of chapter that's a bit further down the line which takes this story in a direction I had not anticipated. Yes this is as bad as teasing defenceless children about secret birthday presents and I know I am evil but I am so excited about this new plot development that I can't keep quiet about it. I'll just have to write and write and write until we get there ; -). Enjoy xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "His middle name means Mario in Polish. She named him for your mother Stark” The words echoed through Tony’s mind.

_"His middle name means Mario in Polish. She named him for your mother Stark_ ” The words echoed through Tony’s mind. “ _She named him for your mother_ ” He couldn’t get away from them. Despite the anger, and by God he was so angry, at that bastard Stane, at Scimitar, who was now a god damn Sheriff, at Pepper, Coulson and even Maya herself, he couldn’t stop those damn words reverberating through his head. _“Named him for your mother”_

He had refused to acknowledge anyone after that damn phone call. How the hell did that bastard Stilinski know he was being hunted? How? Someone at SHEILD? It had been years since Stane had been removed from office and that Donna woman was dead. Who else had been involved? God he could go insane worrying about it. But he set Jarvis running a sub routine of the original search to find out if anyone in his organisation had links to Beacon Hills, and the local law enforcement.  Although he didn’t give up on the original search, instead they had included SHEILD’s databases. Any connection he could find. They could filter the data later with more definite parameters but they needed a baseline to work with.    
The only actual words out of Tony’s mouth had been to threaten Coulson with SHEILD’s utter annihilation if they did anything without clearing it with him first. And he meant it. He would gladly dissolve the organisation that his damn father helped to create into unrecognisable molecules if they caused any harm to his son.  
Coulson had stared him in the eyes and just nodded, for once making no damn comment. Tony had never had a problem making a decision in his life, he normally leapt in with both feet suitably dressed in his designer suits, especially when it was a glorious red and gold flying suit armed for bear. This feeling of hesitancy. This doubt. This not knowing what to do was so utterly foreign to his nature that he didn’t know what to do. A vicious circle that he needed to break but this was too damn important to get wrong. This was about his son, his child. If it was fighting for his life, saving the world, kicking ass, design shit or making money, fine he could handle it. No emotional investment, just pure adrenaline and determination.  

But this was his son. No one was screwing this up for him. No one not even himself.

_“She named him for your mother”_. Damn it. The words wouldn’t leave him alone. Even believing that he might have been involved Maya Hansen, no not Maya, she had become Claudia, Mrs Claudia Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski had given their son his mother’s name.

Those words circled his brain like predatory wolves. He couldn’t really concentrate on anything else. His mind might not be able to deal with meeting, talking to, being in the actual presence of his son, but those words finally gave him focus, gave him something decisive to actually do and might even allow him to bypass the uncharacteristic nervous anxiety.   
He owed Maya Hansen. He owed her for not getting rid of his kid when she found out she was pregnant. He owed her for trying to do the right thing by seeking to contact him (He refused to consider just how much of an asshole he might have been about it in those days once he had been informed, his lawyers had been well paid to remove problems from his life, still were), he owed her for that twisted evil bastard Stane destroying her life and future. She had been a well-respected scientist working at the cutting edge of DNA research and potential genetic manipulation to eradicate disease. He remembered how enthusiastic she had been about the future research, when he had finally dug deep enough in his memories to identify her. She had been fascinated with her chosen branch of science and it had fascinated him. Science had always been sexy to him.  
Because of a damned one night stand with the irresponsible Anthony Edward Stark, she had been forced to flee for her life, abandon her work and never return so that she could protect herself and the baby.  She must have been an amazing woman and he had treated her with the same careless charming indifferent arrogance as he had treated all his other playmates. He had been a self-obsessed, sex obsessed, drunken, self-centred fool in those days. Afghanistan had changed him on a cellular level even if he was still the playboy billionaire in the world’s media. He was ashamed to admit that there was a more than 90% probability that he would have been a complete failure at any kind of parental responsibility that had been thrust upon him in those days, in fact he was damn sure he wouldn’t be that much of a success now but at least he now wanted to try. He wanted desperately to try. Jesus he had performance anxiety just thinking about it.

He was Tony Stark, King of the grand gesture. Only this time it was for a remarkable extraordinary woman, and he would make sure that it was not going to become one more of the ubiquitous media stories and destroy his son’s privacy.

“Jarvis, where is Claudia Stilinski buried?”

She was a biologist and if he remembered correctly she had adored flowers. He might not have a clue how to talk to his son, but he knew damn well how to show his appreciation to a woman, and he appreciated his son’s mother more than he could ever tell anyone. Therefore this grand gesture had to be special, the kind of special he would only consider for his own mother or Pepper.

“Freesias” he murmured and then smiled with satisfaction, some of the rigid tension beginning to leave his body. He would thank that wonderful woman with the flowers his own mother had adored.

Then he would figure out a way to charm his own son into accepting him into his life. Normally his money or his connections could buy him anything he wanted, but he didn’t think that was going to work with this young stranger who stared back at him from the holographic images with his own eyes. The eyes that Maria Stark had passed down to her son.  
The lab blurred for a few seconds and he could feel his breathing speed up. Until Jarvis broke into his introspection to offer softly with an affection that only Tony was ever privileged to hear. “Congratulations Sir, it’s a boy, you have a son”

Tony laughed, it was a startled weak one but it was a laugh, with genuine amusement. Felt like the first laugh he’d let rip in months. “So you don’t mind having to deal with another Stark then Jay?” Tony responded teasingly “I am sure it will be a pleasure Sir, he seems to be a very interesting and energetic young man. His grasp on Economics is undoubtedly unique, as skilfully expounded in his splendid essay on the history of male circumcision”  
 The AI responded with gentle mockery. Tony’s eyes widened and for a few seconds he looked younger, more carefree. “He wrote about male circumcision for an Economics class?” he repeated with delight. “Damn I want to keep him, sounds like my kind of kid”

There was no response from the AI until Tony suddenly smiled affectionately “Jarvis, we are going to bring your big brother home”. “Big brother Sir” the AI queried in a confused tone.

“I might have accidentally had a hand in creating the California kid but you are the son I created deliberately” Tony paused as if embarrassed at the amount of sentiment he had expressed and then continued in his more usual deliberately mocking tone “Well hand is probably the wrong turn of phrase, it was my…” Before he could finish he was interrupted politely but very, very firmly.   
“Sir, I do understand the process of conception, you kindly explained it very graphically with the unfortunate and surprisingly realistic use of shadow puppets” Jarvis deliberately wry tone made Tony smirk openly. Damn his younger kid was good.    
No more words were spoken until Tony went to leave the lab.

“Goodnight” the AI paused and then continued in a gentle faint murmur “Father”. Tony stood stock still and drew in a deep breath before carrying on out of the lab as if he hadn’t heard the word. If Tony’s vision blurred again for a few seconds before he blinked rapidly to clear it, if his throat felt like Romanov had him in a chokehold again, if his heart felt like the arc reactor had stopped working, and then he heard the pounding of his pulse, then that was between him and his body, he ignored the fact that Jarvis would be well aware of and monitoring any and all physical changes. The only thing anyone not Jarvis would see, was the small smile on his face he couldn’t for the life of him stop.

 

Tony had done a midnight flit, leaving Jarvis to inform his team mates that he was away on business for a few days. Clint had rolled his eyes, Natasha’s small snort was definitely unladylike and Steve had just groaned, rubbing at his forehead as if to get rid of a headache that couldn’t be physical because of the serum. Steve Rodgers had only developed emotional headaches since he had accepted Tony’s offer to live in the Tower. He hadn’t even known they were possible before.  
Surprisingly Bruce was the first to voice his concern over Tony leaving for Beacon Hills on his own “It could be a trap” he spoke softly but they could all hear how serious he was.

Steve frowned “But it’s his own kid” he offered half-heartedly, whilst his tactician’s mind was working through scenario after scenario.

Bruce’s lip curled and his expression was mocking “Seriously Cap, there a few things determined ruthless people and organisations won’t do to get what they want in this day and age. SHIELD used a little girl to lure me in” he swung his head and stared straight at Natasha   
Faint streaks of green were visible in his eyes but they faded away after a few moments   “No offence Agent” he smirked and for once his expression was neither forgiving nor pleasant. He made no attempt to blend into the wallpaper to avoid any chances at confrontation. It seemed like he was quite happy to challenge any one over potential risk to Tony.  
Black Widow merely raised an elegant eyebrow and calmly responded “None taken Doctor Banner” after a short but intense staring match that seemed to last for hours to the uncomfortable witnesses. Something eased in posture as Bruce continued in his more normal unflappable manner “What makes you think Scimitar is not capable of using the boy as bait? The timing on this is all wrong, why now, why would he deliberately choose to contact Tony now?”

Steve calmly turned to Barton, “Clint get the Quinjet ready, we are up in twenty” but he was interrupted by a polite cough. “Jarvis?” Bruce queried, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“I’m afraid the Quinjet is undergoing essential maintenance Captain” the AI’s voice was calm and imperturbable as he imparted the news.

Before anyone could react to that unexpected pronouncement, the rest of the team were startled as Agent Coulson seemed to appear out of nowhere and calmly stated “We’ll take the Bus, its waiting for us. Captain, you and Agents Romanov and Barton will be protection detail on Mr Stark. Thor and I will have a discussion with the Sheriff. Dr Banner…”.   
Bruce held up a hand to stop him as he stated decisively, “I will monitor comms, I don’t want there to be any accidents, and Tony is more likely to calm down if he hears me on the link” the look on his face made them understand that his mind was made up.   
“Dr Banner we may need…” Coulson tried to continue as he frowned at Banner, “No” Bruce’s headshake was emphatic but there was a disturbing resonating depth to his voice that normally foreshadowed his alter ego’s appearance. “I will not endanger Tony’s son, you already have the rest of the team. Do you seriously think the Sheriff is that formidable that you need the Hulk? Let that be an end to it” 

“Sir, they are on their way, Agent Coulson has offered them another form of transportation” Jarvis’s voice was calm and Tony could swear that the AI was amused and a little smug. He had not been happy with the idea that Sir was travelling to California by himself, even if he did have his Iron Man suit in the case. Jarvis had followed Tony’s instructions but he had made his objections known, multiple times until Tony had in exasperation invoked silence.

Tony rolled his eyes “For the love of God, I only wanted to go to that poor woman’s grave, what the hell is wrong with them? No Jarvis don’t answer that. Just tell me if the flowers have been delivered as per my instructions”

The Sheriff stared at his phone in horror. He had been in his office, had just finished briefing his deputies on the required tasks for the day when Tara Graeme had slipped into his office to let him know that an unusually large number of SUVs had been spotted leaving the old abandoned private airfield at the furthest point north east in the County about an hour ago. There had been some sort of unexplained interference that had stopped the Deputy on traffic duty from reporting it until he had moved closer to town. The Sheriff was running through the possibilities (Hunters, Shield, pretentious assholes he hadn’t yet come across) when Stiles had rung him on his private cell. Concern had flooded his mind, for the love of God, the kid was only supposed to visit his Mom’s grave. What kind of trouble had he got into at the freaking cemetery, especially with Derek on his tail? Ha Pun fully intended. Stiles had got his penchant for atrocious jokes from his Dad after all. God damn it, his boy dropped his cell. What the hell? As soon as the Sheriff heard the words from that moron Stark, he knew just who were being transported in those damn SUVs. Cold rage and fear churned in his gut. He was going to tear that arrogant asshole limb from limb. 

What the fuck was wrong with that man? If Stiles was in a full on panic attack he would bury that bastard in that painted tin can he wore so deep he would never see the light of day again even if their damn sun went supernova.

“Stiles, Stiles” he practically shouted down the phone before to his horror the call was lost.

His fingers scrolled through his contacts at speed. But before he could dial, Parrish put his head through the door, “Boss, two white SUVs have pulled into the parking lot”

 

“Hey kid got a hug for your old man?” Tony’s words seem to hang in the air trembling with the promise of utter disaster.

Steve closed his eyes in despair. Merciful Lord that man was his own worst enemy sometimes. How the heck did he ever manage negotiate anything for his business?   
Bruce’s normal calm was interrupted by a bout of vehement fluid creative swearing which would have impressed a seasoned dock worker, and caused both Steve and Clint to flinch at the unremitting vitriolic noise in their ears whilst Natasha stared with unbroken intensity at the shocked teenager standing in front of Stark. She was the one who saw, literally saw rage flood through the kid’s body, before he opened his mouth. She was certain that if the boy had been any nearer to Stark, he would have taken a swing at him. 

Stiles mouth had dropped open in bewildered disbelieving shock. Tony Freaking Stark, Iron Man, and an Avenger was standing in front of him, talking to him. His eyes swung from Stark’s smiling face where he could see his own reflection in those douchebag sunglasses. Dude was that smile ever fake, the same expression the playboy billionaire wore for all those press conferences and rich people parties, the one that said “trust me I am a Stark, I would never lie to you, I would never knock up your mother and then try and steal you from your widowed father”

Stiles brought his rambling mind back into focus, he stared at the arms held out and the stupid smirk on that stupid face and let those damn words sink into his mind until only outrage and fury were left. If he had Scott’s baseball bat right now, this very second he would take the mega douche’s head off with it.  

“Who the fuck do you think you are you utter bastard? Coming here, stalking me like some freaking creepy creeper from creepsville, despoiling my mom’s grave, saying that to me. How dare you?” Stiles heard his own voice as if from a distance, he wasn’t shrieking like a girl, he wasn’t. Just because he couldn’t roar his frustrated man fury like Derek freaking Hale when someone stepped on his damn tail and he was denied his dog treats, didn’t mean that he sounded like a ten year old girl with a temper tantrum. 

Stiles watched Stark drop his arms and his face flash with anger too.

“I know who I am kid, and I know who you are too.” Stark’s voice was cutting, “I also know that I came here to honour a woman I admire greatly, I did not come for you. I did not expect to see you here. So don’t you dare disrespect your mother like that”

Tony watched as the kid paled alarmingly then flushed an unbecoming shade of red and took an involuntary step back from him, his shoulders hunched over as if trying to protect himself. Fuck it, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. He hadn’t meant anything with his stupid greeting, he just used levity to get out of awkward situations and there wasn’t a situation much more awkward than meeting your unknown teenage son for the first time unexpectedly over the grave of his dead mother. Christ maybe Romanov was right, he should wear a damn gag to give him time to think about his answers.

Stiles didn’t know what to do, he was so angry he wanted to hit something, but underneath it all there was a burning fear. No way was anyone taking him away from his Dad. He didn’t care how powerful or connected or rich Tony Iron Man freaking sperm donor Stark was, he was staying with his Dad. He was nearly 18, nearly an adult, they couldn’t do that to him. Mouth to brain filter now totally out of whack, he blurted out, eyes wild with fear “You are not taking me away from my Dad, I won’t let you”   
Tony Stark snorted and rolled his eyes, he couldn’t help it even though his anger had fled at the look on the boy’s face. Jesus Christ he wasn’t the monster here, even Mr “I suck at personal relationships but make a damn fine robot” Anthony Edward Stark understood the sheer stupidity of doing something like that even if his tongue ran away with him in unexpected stressful first time paternal situations.

“Of course I am not taking you away from your father” he stated firmly, but the kid took another step away from him and then stopped abruptly. Then for the first time Tony widened his focus from the boy, his boy, his son and saw just how close Natasha was standing behind Stiles. He quickly scanned the rest of the area and there was Cap and Barton, both also way too close to the kid, as if they were penning him in, as if they were lifting a mark. What? Fuck no, just no. It was not going to go down like that. No way in hell. The kid would never trust him again. God damn Fury, and his moronic ideas. He would make SHIELD pay, just see if he didn’t.   
Tony opened his mouth to blast the lot of them when Romanov put her hand on the kid’s shoulder. Stiles swung round in shock and Tony saw him take in the Avengers, saw him stiffen into the kind of defensive posture that came naturally to someone who fought for his life on a regular basis, not something a teenager like Stiles should ever know. What the hell had that damn man been doing to him?

Tony’s worrying observations almost made him miss Natasha’s calm words. “I think you should come with us now Genim”

Tony opened his mouth to object but then his brain overrode him. Why was the kid so afraid, and ready to be attacked? What had he suffered? Who had hurt him? Maybe it would be better if the kid was taken out of the situation until they could fully assess the danger he was in. Christ on a pogo stick. He was beginning to sound like Cap.

Stiles wrenched his shoulder away from the surprising strong grip of the beautiful woman in front of him. “Get away from me Lady, I am not going anywhere with you, and don’t you dare call me that” he snarled, his eyes narrowing with distrust and offense as they jumped to each of the people who looked like they were trying to herd him towards the sperm donor. He so was not dignifying the traitorous lying son of a bitch with a name. Nope from now on he was just the sperm donor, because that’s all he damn well was, or ever would be. Anger and fear jostled for position inside his head, his chest. That bloody woman had called him Genim, who the hell did she think she was? Then his brain slowed its frantic processing and the pieces clicked into place   
  
Oh God, oh God, he was surrounded by the freaking Avengers. The woman who spoke to him, she was the Black Widow. The shorter stocky blonde guy on his left, the one who had been hugging her, Allison was gonna flip, it was that Archer dude, Hawk something. So the big man with the book and baseball cap, he had to be Captain America, heh, Cap A in a cap. Not quite a palindrome but English wasn’t his best subject.  God he had to focus. His damn frantic brain.   
They were going to take him away, he would lose his Dad. He could feel the panic flood his body, feel his heart start to race and he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He was more scared now than he had been waking up on the floor of the Argent’s basement with that leering evil old bastard Gerard standing above him.  
  
Fuck he needed his phone, where was his phone, he had to call his Dad. Oh God, they could take him away. Focus, he had to focus he couldn’t afford a panic attack now. He had to get away from them. Especially that lying liar of a sperm donor. He flung a betrayed look at Stark as he stumbled backwards, then dipped to clutch at his cell lying there on the ground. Before he could call his Dad, the phone was snatched out of his hand by the Archer dude. Hawk nose? Hawk ear? “Nuh huh Kid, not right now, it’s time to come with us” he smirked at Stiles. At Stiles’s horrified look the woman spoke again, calmly, not taking her intense gaze off him “We will look after you, you have nothing to fear now, you will come with us and once we have had a little chat then your property will be returned to you”

“I am not going anywhere with you, now give me my fucking cell back” Stiles shouted enraged. He might not be able to physically beat them but he would make them regret it if they abducted him. He would babble at the bastards until their ears bled. 

“There is a line which should not be crossed” the stern voice of Mrs Oakley came from behind them startling everyone.   
“Goddamn it Barton you were supposed to be on watch” Captain America complained then turned quickly to the old lady but she pointed her umbrella at him    “Watch your language young man” she scolded and Captain America flushed. “There is a line which you have not only crossed but you have all leapt over it with utter abandon. You do not frighten children, you do not kidnap children and you do not steal their property”. She swung the umbrella and managed to clip Barton on the backside. “Give young Stiles his phone back you bully”. Barton would forever deny that he yelped at the blow.He just knew he was never going to live this one down. But then again not even the super soldier had realised that the old lady was making a move on them.  

As Romanov moved towards her, the old lady pointed her umbrella at her “Don’t even think about it young woman, you are not too big to avoid one across the ass either” she snarled, and for a second Natasha’s eyes widened with surprise, and then unwilling amused admiration.

Steve spoke again “Ma’am” he had to try to salvage this insane situation.

“Don’t you Ma’am me, I can’t abide bullies” Mrs Oakley dismissed him and deliberately turned towards Stiles who was staring at her in utter wonder. He officially had a new hero, Mrs Oakley was awesome.   
“Stiles honey, you come with me now, and we will get you to your Daddy” she cooed at him. Totally ignoring the other four adults as if they were beneath her notice.

Romanov stepped forward “I’m afraid we can’t allow that Ma’am” she said calmly, just as Tony was irritated enough to start “Now look Lady…” but once again they were interrupted.

“I don’t think you have any choice” a new voice growled at them, the threat that rumbled through the air enough to escalate the tension. Barton looked down at his hand in shock, the cell was gone. Fuck he hadn’t even seen the guy move.

Stiles also looked down at his hand in shock as his phone was slipped into it. When he looked back up, Derek Hale was standing right next to him. He opened his mouth but closed it again as he saw the miniscule shake of Derek’s head. Stiles obeyed but he wasn’t sure if this day could get any more surreal. What the hell was the Alpha doing in the cemetery? Not that he wasn’t grateful for the intervention. Mrs O was fabulous and he would write odes to her courage but he didn’t think she could hold off the freaking Avengers. Derek on the other hand was more a shoot first and ask questions later kind of fighter, or rather bite someone’s throat out with his teeth and then ask, so now he had something else to worry about. How the hell was he going to get Mrs Oakley out of the line of fire? He had no doubt there would be bloodshed. Derek was being very territorial about Stiles. He hoped that Derek didn’t need to mark his territory the usual way. If he pissed on Stiles, swear to God the rolled up newspaper was coming out!

The four Avengers focused on the muscular, extremely handsome dark haired man who was now standing protectively in front Stiles and the old lady.

He smiled without warmth, a brief flash of teeth that had the hair on the back of Steve’s neck standing in warning. The green eyes framed by those cheekbones had the focus of a predator evaluating his next meal. Tony did not miss the way Stiles seemed to relax slightly at the nearness of the leather jacketed bad boy. Barton scowled “Listen man” but again the man interrupted coldly, “No I think you should listen, right about now” The wail of police sirens hit the air just as he finished the last word. Satisfaction gleamed in those intense eyes.

“Sheriff’s department on the way to safeguard the Sheriff’s kid from unknown assailants. And if you want to remain unknown I suggest you leave now. Do you really want the Avengers to be splashed across the news for the attempted abduction of the son of a well-respected County Sheriff?” and then the guy smirked. He even raised his hand and gently held it across the kid’s mouth to stop the babble that was about to burst forth, murmuring almost gently “Shush Stiles, no one is going to take you away from your Dad”

Stiles was too stunned to react. Derek Hale with a successful well thought out plan of action. What was the world coming to? He’d have to bake him some congratulation cookies.

Steve Rogers straightened and suddenly it was Captain America standing there, “I think it’s time we all visited the Sheriff” he said calmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings,  
> Apologies for the delay. My baby girl was admitted to hospital as an emergency once again and had another operation. But she's home now sassing her Mum like normal. So lots going on in RL that left me unable to complete this chapter until now.   
> Yes the big one, Stiles and Tony. Hope you like this, had a bit of trouble pulling it together especially when Mrs O had to join in. She just insisted on putting the Avengers in their place. Hope it works. I do have to admit that her words were a homage to one of my favourite fan fics "Unsafe places" by RabbitintheWoods http://archiveofourown.org/works/736808 . Its a great story and I cried laughing.   
> Hugs xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deputy Parrish has to abandon his lunch  
> Deputy Parrish is Sad  
> Deputy Parrish sticks it to SHIELD  
> Deputy Parrish is glad
> 
> Thor wants Popcorn  
> The Sheriff is amused but confused  
> Stiles hasn't left the cemetery yet.

Deputy Jordan Parrish put down his lunch with a look of sad longing, he had bought his sandwich from his favourite Deli today as a treat but the Deputy knew Spooks when he saw them. The vehicles swung to a dramatic halt outside the station as if they were trying to box the building in. It was no time to be tucking into a grilled Reubens with coleslaw.

He hadn’t been sure which agency it was except for that screamingly obvious fact that most of the said agencies preferred the usual dull menacing black for their vehicles. The white SUVs were too flamboyant for anyone other than SHIELD, and when he saw the enormous long haired blonde dude in the freaking gold armour and red cloak step out of the front vehicle as if he was getting off a chariot, he knew the occupants had to belong to Colonel Nicholas J Fury. The spy master supreme! Yeah right. The guy called himself a spy, wearing that long leather monstrosity and that freaking eye-patch? He wasn’t a spy, he was a born again sparkly Machiavelli. White SUV’s, Men in Black and the Norse God of Thunder in a small California Town. Way to crack a sunflower seed with a sledge hammer Fury. Secret Agency his fragrant phoenix ass! What the hell was going on?

God damn it all to hell. He had picked Beacon Hill County as a safe boring little place to settle after the shit fest that had been his army days. He had wanted to fade away from any memories of his “abilities” in the bomb squad. Was it too much to ask to have a normal life for a couple of years? After the tragedy of the fire wiping out the Hales and therefore most of the supernatural population in the County in one fell swoop, he had thought the area would be devoid of any uncomfortable reminders of his own nature. And he wouldn’t have to make himself known to any supernatural factions ruling or otherwise. Hell he didn’t even have a pet goldfish so he could avoid that irritatingly smug Vet and Druid Deaton.

That’s all he wanted was a couple of years where he could keep his head down and just deal with human scumbags for a change. Honesty was not always the best policy, especially when it was one of the side effects of his supernatural nature. Parrish had learnt the hard way that he did not want to know if one of his outwardly respectable married middle aged colleagues wanted to tie him to a bed with pink fluffy handcuffs, decorate him with cream from an aerosol and then proceed to ravish him, all of which had been uttered clearly and loudly in a full squad room where the day’s duties were being assigned, after Parrish made the mistake of innocently asking aloud “Where do you want me?”   
  
He only released that particular talent when he was dealing with suspects now.  Though he still tried to avoid the kinky perverts!

Then the freaking Nemeton had stirred things up, bringing back the remaining Hales in all their sad painful glory and what with that loony tunes crispy critter Peter Hale running rampage and then that poster boy for man angst Derek Hale’s and his desperate desire to build another pack but with the super idiotic choice of damaged teenagers, his nice peaceful existence had gone to hell in a hand basket. And he wasn’t going to touch the appearance of a vengeful Kanima with a bargepole. That was all on Hale, he could sort that particular can of worms out. God he must be getting freaked, he was mixing his metaphors and he was really old enough to know better, even if he didn’t look it.  

He liked the Sheriff, he really did. The guy was a truly decent human being, an efficient and compassionate Lawman and he loved his son. Parrish even liked Stiles though he would have shot him at least once a day if he had to live with the manic little shit. Plastic bullets to be sure but he still would have shot him!

He could even understand the Sheriff’s desire to wipe the Argents off the face of the earth, when he seen the evidence of what that prick Gerard Argent had done to Stiles. 

He had been the one to “find” the surveillance cameras and had appropriated the stills of that bastard torturing those kids. He had known something was up when the Sheriff had ordered the not so subtle investigation into the Argent Company gun sales. The look on Chris Argent’s face when he had come to the door and seen the pair of them. It had warmed the cockles of his old Phoenix heart.  So when Tara Graeme had been occupied with going through the files like a hyper-vigilant freaking accountant on speed, he had used the time to follow his instincts and his nose and found the damn Argent dungeons and their stupid need to film or picture document everything! If only the rest of the criminals in Beacon Hills were so obliging.

The Adult Argents deserved everything coming to them, and as for the pretty teenager she was toeing a very thin line. If she wasn’t very careful she would find herself on the same path as that murderous psychotic Aunt of hers. He had watched the damn tapes. She had been in the room when her grandfather beat the crap out of Stiles and she had just stared blank faced at her other two school mates who were bound and hanging from the damn ceiling.   
Jordan had not passed those particular photos along with the others he had sent anonymously to the Sheriff. He would give the Argent kid one chance but if she didn’t sort herself out then he would deal with her himself, like someone should have dealt with that freaking evil serial killing bitch Kate before she slaughtered whole families.

Parrish was pretty sure the Sheriff knew about Werewolves and Hunters now. He was also pretty damn sure that the Sheriff’s motivation was his utter devotion to his reckless loyal kid, but he couldn’t quite see Stilinski’s end game.  
  
What the hell was SHIELD doing in their back yard? What the hell was the Norse God of Thunder doing striding into the station as if he owned the damn place? Leading the charge of the arrogant suits. How many were they facing? A driver each who had exited the cars first and led the way into the reception. A scarily efficient looking gorgeous brunette who looked like she would rather shoot someone than talk, a pleasant faced calm balding older guy whose eyes assessed everything, plus not forgetting his Majestic Muscles of Mightiness and that was more than enough to be going on with. 

Well damn, time to put a spoke in the well-oiled spook wheel. He knew the Sheriff was on the phone to Hale, some thing was going down at the County Cemetery with Stiles. If SHIELD weren't involved in that as well he would eat his official Deputy Hat.   
Despite himself, Parrish’s eyes lit with amusement as he moved to stand in front of the doorway into the main office leading back towards the Sheriff's own office, as the men and women in black and the Thunder God strode passed poor disconcerted Margo on reception as if she wasn’t even there. The devil was in the detail after all.

The head MIB (he was definitely an MIB even though he was wearing a grey suit) smiled blandly at him, but his eyes were calculating as he studied the uniformed man who blocked their progress, “Excuse us Officer, we need to speak to the Sheriff” the smirk and the slight baring of his teeth was a good indication that the man was holding onto his patience with his fingertips and didn’t want to be stopped by an obvious lackey.   
  
Parrish buried the amusement deep as his smile mockingly matched the one on the spook’s face but he made sure that the expression in his eyes was as cold as ice. After all Spy speak was all about power plays!

He might be dealing with the lead agent but he hadn’t missed the manner in which the rest of them had tensed up as he blocked their way.

“I am sure you do Sir, but you won’t be going anywhere until you have signed the register and handed over all your weapons which will be kept in our gun safe until you leave”

Coulson stared at the determined young Officer in front of him, the smile dropping off his face faster than Clint Barton could arm and fire his bow. He tilted his head slightly as he assessed him.

It wasn’t bravado, the kid meant what he said. He truly expected them to hand over their weapons and sign the damn visitors register. He sighed slightly, Coulson could normally charm his way through any bureaucracy and get what he wanted as easy as breathing. For some reason, today he was finding it a struggle. The situation with Stark and his erstwhile son in the cemetery might have unsettled him slightly. He had promised Stark that they wouldn’t interfere with his handling of the situation, and then Romanov tries to pick the kid up like a hostile mark. Now he had to deal with the fall out, from Stark, from the teenager, and from the super possessive ex assassin step Dad.   
Coulson promised himself with vicious satisfaction that there was going to be a very uncomfortable debrief in the Avengers future and by God, he wasn’t the one who was going to feel it. They needed to be reminded that actions have consequences.

Agent Coulson did not need the young Officer in front of him trying to delay them. He glared at the man. The kid just raised one eyebrow in response, his face implacable.

So a bit of old fashioned secret service bull in a china shop diplomacy was in order.

“Son, we are agents of SHIELD, this is a matter of national emergency and you will step aside and let us through”

The kid’s eyes widened, Coulson had the sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at him. Then the suspicion became a certainty as the kid had the audacity to grin at him.

“I feel I have to inform you as you appear to have missed this relevant little fact Sir, but this is the Sheriff’s station for Beacon County and I am a duly appointed and sworn in Deputy Sheriff. Local by-law insists that no weapons are brought into the Station except for the Deputies of the County. You will check your weapons with Miss Margo here and then I will see if the Sheriff has any time free in his busy schedule to see you.”

The smile that crossed the Deputy’s face was no longer pleasant but downright dangerous. Coulson saw his people react to the unspoken threat, tension increasing, hands moving to more easily access their concealed weapons, hard eyes scanning the area trusting Coulson to deal with the difficult young Officer in front of him.

Before anyone could say anything, the Deputy continued smoothly, “You should be aware that the station is fully covered by CCTV at all times and I have already notified my brother Officers in the County of your arrival. All video feed is routinely sent directly to every other station in the County, the Mayor’s Office and Law Courts. Any attempt to use weapons in this station will be met with force, and you will be arrested if you do not surrender them immediately.”

There was a stunned silence, the looks on the faces of the surrounding Agents were priceless and Parrish had a hard time not laughing, but he kept it together until the blonde bombshell in the red cape roared “I do not leave my Mjolnir with any Midgardian”

Parrish focused on him and for a second Thor thought he saw flames in the human’s eyes. Thor paused, his head tilted. Not human then, intriguing. He considered mentioning to the SHIELD agents but decided to see what happened. Thor had no reason to reveal the young man's secret. Thor knew all too well that the inhabitants of Midgard did not cope well with those that were different.   
Suddenly Thor was amused instead of irate. He was concerned for his team mate Anthony’s emotional well-being and would assist in the retrieval of the Man of Iron’s child. But the events occurring in this small town were better than the TV shows his shield sister Darcy insisted he watch so that he could understand Midgard better. Soap Operas, they were called, though Thor had yet to see any large people singing noisily in the bathing chamber. Mayhap the young defender of this town’s laws would be able to make him some popcorn.  
  
The Deputy dipped his head as if he was grateful for Thor's forbearance but before he could say anything, the Sheriff himself appeared behind him, “Problems Deputy Parrish?” he asked pleasantly, but his hard gaze assessed the group of strangers gathered together, and if he focused on Thor and then Coulson for a little longer, it wasn’t obvious.

“No Sir, these visitors have stated that they are Agents of SHIELD and were all just about to hand their weapons over to Margo and sign the visitors register” Parrish answered cheerfully.

“Enough Stilinski, we can have the conversation here or in your office but you can stop this idiocy right now” Coulson demanded firmly. His patience at an end. He had heard on the com link how the meeting in the cemetery had gone down and he had to complete his mission before the rest of them arrived at the Station. The kid gloves were coming off. 

 

“I believe we have the right to a phone call” Agent Hill called after the smirking Deputy who had locked the cell door behind them.

“Maria” Coulson sighed from the wall seat, “Please try not to anger the nice local law enforcement officers even more”. Agent Hill shot him an aggrieved glare combined with an under the breath mutter of “Did you lose your ever loving mind Phil, when the baby faced Deputy asked where the weapons were concealed, you didn’t have to tell him everything, you even told him about my thigh and ankle holsters. Seriously what the actual hell Agent Coulson?” She turned away from him growling softly “If it wasn’t for Director Fury’s instructions to not engage the locals” she didn’t finish the sentence, but her meaning was perfectly clear. Coulson knew Maria Hill could be as ruthlessly bloodthirsty as Natasha but she would have to contain herself in patience as they all waited for the rescue party to arrive. Rescue party. Dear God, Tony Stark was never going to let them forget it. Not to mention Barton, no do not mention Barton, ever. The Archer’s gleeful face would haunt them all for years. Then there was Fury, again not an image he wanted to consider at the moment. Nick would be absolutely incandescent.   
How had that sneaky Deputy managed to get him to say all that without a moment’s qualm? Agent Coulson would be looking into Jordan Parrish’s history in more depth than the initial background checks they had run on all the Sheriff’s employees before they had arrived.

That young man might have just earned himself a position with SHIELD. His effortless interrogation skills were wasted on some backwater Sheriff’s office.    
 Coulson was brought back to the present as Hill’s pause ended and then the outrage ramped right back up again. She round to glare at the seated contemplative fellow Agent. “If he messes with my favourite Glock Phil, I am so kicking your ass for this.” Then she folded her arms huffily over her chest and stared angrily out through the cell bars.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the chapter you were expecting and really doesn't have a lot of the Sheriff or the other main protagonists. But it had to be set up because of reasons further in the story, and because the other one is being ridiculously DIFFICULT to write.  
> As much as I adore Coulson in fanon, I felt the need for him to be out bamfed, and who better to do it but the baby face deputy who is not apparently a phoenix in the show (Hell hound, have these people not watched Supernatural?) but I don't care, he is in my story.   
> Next chapter is being drafted and that will be the showdown with Tony, the Sheriff and Stiles. And Mrs O sticks her oar in again. Can't promise a particular timescale sorry but I am working on it (even if it is being a little sod). Hugs xx


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Give me my damn car keys back Lady” Stiles’s growl was worthy of one of Derek’s betas. “Language Stiles, and I know your Parents taught you to be respectful to your elders”   
> Mrs Oakley frowned at the teenager who smiled sheepishly back at her in apology, then she turned the same frown on the beautiful redhead. “As for you young woman, I am your elder so give the boy his damn keys back” she scolded.   
> The umbrella in her hand began to swish ominously.

“Give me my damn car keys back Lady” Stiles’s growl was worthy of one of Derek’s betas. “Language Stiles, and I know your Parents taught you to be respectful to your elders” Mrs Oakley frowned at the teenager who smiled sheepishly back at her in apology, then she turned the same frown on the beautiful redhead. “As for you young woman, I am your elder so give the boy his damn keys back” she scolded.   
The umbrella in her hand began to swish ominously. “I am seriously getting tired of your treatment of this child, and that goes for the rest of you” the glare made the rounds of other Adults before reaching up to pat Derek’s cheek in reassurance, “That does not include you Derek, you have always been a good boy, from a lovely family, god rest their souls”

Stiles made a strange gurgling snorting sound but his expression was full of innocence when they all looked at him. To his surprise Derek could feel amusement creeping through him, despite the mention of his family, it was the situation, a werewolf and the most of the world’s superheroes flummoxed by a little old lady. He wondered if she had some wolf in her DNA. He almost smirked, he would be damned if he smiled and gave Stiles blackmail opportunities for the foreseeable future, but the satisfaction leaking off the impassive expressionless short redhead mixing with her aroma of danger, gun oil and sparking electricity kept it off his face. What the hell was wrong with these people? They were worse than damn hunters. He supressed the urge to just grab her by the throat and fling her at the moronic muscle bound blonde bow bearing short asshole beside her, and managed to state calmly through gritted teeth,

“You can come with me Stiles, we’ll collect the Jeep later” 

“Nope that’s not happening” “I’m afraid we can’t allow that” “Not a good idea Son, we need to make sure you are safe”

Tony stared silently at his son whilst the other Avengers objected to Derek’s words. He was watching them all as enthralled as if he were at some kind of sports game. As if he didn’t know whether to get up and scream for the referee or just sit back and enjoy the show.  
The sounds were drowned out when Stiles felt the intensity of the eyes on the back of his neck. He knew who was staring at him. He couldn’t stop the slight shiver that juddered through his body but he turned his head slightly so he could see the man’s expression.   
Stiles stared back at him defiantly but Stark could see the wary fear in the kid’s eyes.   
  
His kid’s eyes. The same eyes he had inherited from his own Mother. His kid’s eyes were scared. His kid was afraid of him and his team, and Tony had caused that fear by being stupidly impatient and then not factoring in the depths that bastard Fury would plumb to have something to hold over his head. Yeah he knew he was being paranoid, but it wasn’t paranoia if you knew they were out to get you.   
Even if it wasn’t the initial driver, he knew Fury would try to take advantage of this somehow because that was what Fury did. Take advantage. The man did so love his manipulations.   
The bastard had left him to try to find his own cure to the palladium poisoning, allowed Tony to get sicker and sicker, to feel the utter despair of knowing he was going to die and that it was inevitable before he had his female lying superspy, someone Tony had actually liked and had begun to trust, inject him out of the blue with no explanation, not knowing if it would kill or cure him, and then finally there had been the smug patronising drip of information towards Howard’s data that would allow him to find the cure.   
It seemed to Tony that SHIELD worked on the principle that they intervened only when it was of benefit to them. No matter what

He might be able to work with them when the need arose, but he would never work for them. Those interminable agonising months in the Cave with Yensin had taught him that.   
He was not going to be the kind of person who fit in with SHIELD and its orders.  
  
Well shit. If the kid was in danger from Scimitar, this wasn’t the way to go about it even if he had second guessed himself and allowed himself to be overruled by Natasha’s snatch first and sort the shit later tactics. 

Tony didn’t remove his gaze from the kid’s face. “Enough” he didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t need to, the biting tone cut through the arguments like a laser through cheap third world tin. It always amused Tony how people actually forgot that he had run a Global multibillion Dollar Corporation from his youth and just remembered the playboy persona.

“Stiles will go with hot leather jacket growly guy, and we will follow to make sure he gets there safely” Before anyone else could argue, Tony heard Bruce’s voice on the com link and his eyebrows hit his hairline “Don’t make me come there Romanov, it won’t the Sheriff that the Hulk will be visiting. Do not mess with that kid anymore” Bruce’s voice was deadly serious. It had that low rumble that meant the Other Guy was very close to the surface.   
Tony’s eyes skimmed over the rest of the team’s reactions because his attention had been caught by the said hot leather jacket growly guy. He could have sworn his eyes had flickered with red, then the guy had hid a smirk. He had smirked, definitely smirked as if he had heard Bruce’s words. Which would have been impossible unless he was wearing one of the Stark earpieces. There was no way he could have heard what Bruce had threatened. That com link could not be hacked or otherwise overheard without access to an earpiece. And hot leathery growly guy did not have access.   
But something was going on. He wasn’t a damn genius for nothing. He saw Stiles try to look at his friend as if subtly asking what was going on, well as subtle as the kid could be and then hot leathery growly guy rolled his eyes at him and gave him a gentle little shove forward.

For an instant Tony saw Stiles look back at him, gratitude and an almost shy curiosity crossing his face before he seemed to remember he was still angry with him and the kid turned to march resolutely forward.

 

Thor sat in front of the Sheriff in his office, eyes unblinking as he stared at the man who had caused such consternation amongst his team mates and SHIELD. Mjolnir rested beside him on the floor. He had no concealed weapons on him. He had no need of such duplicity. He was the God of Thunder and Lightning. Therefore the Sheriff’s department had no grounds to arrest him and throw him in cell with the rest of the SHIELD team.   
He would not have allowed it in any case but there was a part of him that remembered the unhidden satisfaction SHIELD had taken in imprisoning his brother, a small but still powerful voice that whispered these Midgardians had dared to restrain the youngest Prince of Asgard, a God, Thor’s little brother.   
For such an offence in previous centuries, Odin himself would have ransacked the planet and sent its people back to the dark ages. Now when they were all more civilised, or at least when it fell in with the All-Father’s objectives, such an insult was tolerated on the condition that the Prince was returned to his world.   
That same small part of Thor enjoyed the expressions on the faces of his sometimes warriors in arms when they had to face the indignity of imprisonment.  
Arrogance was arrogance whether on Asgard or Midgard. His father had sought to teach Thor a lesson for allowing his own arrogance to run rampant, now it seemed that the Agents were doomed to suffer the same fate. A truly enjoyable educational episode of a Midgard reality soap opera. Truly educational for the son of Coul and his team and truly enjoyable for Thor Odinson.  
  
He really hoped the charming Miss Margo was making him the pop tarts she had promised him when he had made his bow and kissed her hand. She had been most regretful that the station did not stock popcorn. Had even offered to send one of the Deputies to obtain some for him but he had graciously declined. Although he had sorely felt their loss whilst he had watched with appreciative glee the young non-human defender’s antics with the Son of Coul. The ability to compel honesty amongst this confusing and sometimes unknowingly duplicitous race of beings was a true gift and he was idly searching through his vast memory to see if he could identify the young fiery defender before he had to concede defeat and just ask the man.   
No harm had been committed against his sometime comrades of SHIELD, unless the giving away of secrets had burned Agent Agent’s very soul, Thor has seen the shocked grimace cross the man’s face as his warriors stared at him in disbelief, so Thor had not felt the need to interfere. Loki might be the God of Mischief but Thor could never understand why it was always forgotten that he had been Loki’s earliest and longest playmate and it wasn’t only Loki who had been instrumental in initiating their creative pranks.

Thor’s amusement fled as he looked the Sheriff in the eye. Despite his calm demeanour the man standing before him knew fear. Not for himself but for the boy. He leant across the desk and growled “If any of the Avengers have hurt my son Stiles I will destroy you all” He promised with the fervour of a true believer. Thor merely frowned at him. This was obviously more complex than he had believed but still a small test would confirm it.  
“Why would we hurt the boy? You are the one who has kept him from his true father all these years”

The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed, the offense clear on his face and in that second Thor knew that this man would be a formidable adversary. He lacked the tools and talents of his brothers and sisters in arms but Thor did not believe that would stop this human from protecting the child he had taken as his own. He had dismissed the reactions to the name Scimitar but now he could see that mayhap they had some merit.

Thor smiled, a human who would be a worthy opponent without use of trickery, electronics or super serum. Fascinating.

 

As the group moved forward, hot leathery growly guy was literally growling at anyone who came too close to the teenager. Tony made a note to get JARVIS to look into this guy with all speed. He knew SHIELD would. Growling? Distracted by his thoughts he didn’t notice he had been left behind with the elderly woman until he felt an arm thread its way through his and he looked down surprised into the lined face with the intense intelligent eyes that were as judgemental as Pepper on a boardroom meeting roll.

The old lady stared at Tony with a frown on her face and shook her head disapprovingly “You are not going about this the right way you know” she scolded almost pityingly. Irritation rushed through him. He was goddamn tired of everyone butting into his attempt to start a relationship with the kid. He bit his tongue because the old dear obviously liked the boy and meant well but he was reaching the end of his tether.  
Tony raised an eyebrow as he silently dared her to continue “The lad adores his father, trying to take him away from the Sheriff is as stupid as you can get, and supposedly you are a genius young man.”   
  
Tony’s mouth dropped a little as he glared at her, if he let rip now he would be downright nasty but she carried on regardless “I heard what you said to him, I might be old but I’m neither deaf nor blind yet and the colour of young Genim’s eyes never came from his Momma or the Sheriff. It never mattered to anyone in that little family”

Tony stiffened and was about to shut her down flat, politeness and respect for the aged be damned, when for the third time she stopped him in his tracks “Genim Stilinski had his Momma taken from him, it devastated that little boy, it almost broke John Stilinski, but they made it work. I can tell you now that Genim won’t take kindly to anyone fooling with his father. Anyone, no matter who he is!  If you want a relationship with the boy then take my advice and don’t be a stupid little shit about it. The boy has always, always been curious with the kind of desperate need to know things that I have never seen in anyone else, and once he fixates on something, he has to know everything about it. Get him interested in you, and you might actually stand a chance with him. Hurt his Dad and you might as well kiss that and your ass goodbye, because he will never forgive you”

The old lady patted Tony’s arm and moved away at a stately pace towards her own elderly vehicle. She left the man stunned.

Anthony Edward Stark was speechless, a feat that many would have paid good money to see. The man that could route Board members, Politicians, Senators and their committees, The Media and even an Asgardian supervillain with a few well-chosen words was left as bereft of speech as a damn gold fish.  Speechless he may have been, but that didn't mean he couldn’t take constructive criticism. Especially when he recognised that this critic at least seemed to know what she was talking about.   
His brain was moving at incredible speed, he assessed the new data, projected scenarios, problems and solutions as he climbed into his red roadster and followed the black Camaro into town.   
Now he had to deal with the Sheriff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not the meeting yet. They had to leave the cemetery first didn't they? And I did have to clear up any confusion about what happened with Thor (he is such a troll!) Still the calm before the storm. Hope you like it.  
> Thank you for all your lovely funny and fascinating comments. They really make my day and I apologise for not getting back to all of you but I do read them and really really appreciate them. You are all wonderful. xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek looked over worriedly at the motionless teenager sitting next to him in the Camaro. Stiles was silent. Stiles was never silent. There should be arm flailing, and the rapid bounce of words hitting his eardrums with relentless energy. Now there was nothing. Zilch. Nada. Stiles was silent. Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. Amber eyes locked onto his face.

Derek looked over worriedly at the motionless teenager sitting next to him in the Camaro. Stiles was silent. Stiles was never silent. There should be arm flailing, and the rapid bounce of words hitting his eardrums with relentless energy. Now there was nothing. Zilch. Nada. Stiles was silent.  Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably.  Amber eyes locked onto his face.

“Thank you Sourwolf” the whispered words were solemn and heartfelt “I don’t know what I would have done if they had taken me away from my Dad” the rest of the sentence was mostly muttered under his breath but Stiles had to know that he would be able to hear them. Before Derek could even respond, Stiles seemed to remember something, Derek could see the curiosity creeping into the kid’s eyes as Stiles turned his body to face him and he perked up a bit. “Did they have communication devices in their ears? What did you hear just before we left?” he asked his eyes gleaming.

Derek actually smothered a grin “Some guy threatened them with the Hulk if they didn’t let you go” Stiles perked up even more “Seriously?” he gaped “Wow ultra-cool dude”

“Stiles” Derek’s tone was familiar in its long suffering grumpiness “Don’t call me Dude”. Stiles actually laughed and Derek’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction behind his sunglasses.   
He could smell the stress, anxiety and adrenaline easing off in the kid. He might be following the Sheriff’s order to watch out for the boy but he had always liked the sarcastic little shit anyway. He was much more entertaining than Scott, who really should have been a Were Golden retriever not a wolf. Despite Scott’s so called morality and puppy dog eyes, Stiles was more loyal and utterly ruthless when it came right down to it. He would have made an excellent Beta. He would make an even better Alpha.

Derek was angry, he was always angry but when the kid was still trying to deal with the fact that he had been kidnapped and beaten by that psychotic old bastard Gerard Argent and no one had come to save him especially not his damn best friend, he now had to deal with some fucking interfering secret agency and their not so fucking secret superheroes trying to take him away from his Dad. It made Derek really, really angry.    
Derek knew the agony of losing family. Stiles had suffered through that once with his Mom, there was no way in hell Derek could sit back and watch Stiles lose his scary father. Anger boiled in his veins like lava. Those interfering assholes wouldn’t want to see him angry, there would be teeth and claws and throats being ripped out. 

Derek pulled something out of his jacket pocket and threw it Stiles, “Ring your Dad and tell him we are on our way” he growled. Stiles gaped at him as he found his own phone back in his lap. Stiles gave a surprised chuckle “That Hawk guy didn’t even see you move Der Bear, you must have scared the crap out of him”, there was gleeful vengeful satisfaction in the kid’s tone and Derek hid another smile. He didn’t even cuff Stiles’ head for the stupid nickname.

“Dad” John Stilinski closed his eyes with relief as he heard Stiles’ voice. He didn’t care that both Parish and the God of Thunder were sitting in his office with him whilst they waited for the rest of the SHIELD/Stark circus to arrive.

“Stiles honey, are you ok? Are you with the Deputies that were despatched? Did anyone hurt you? What did Stark do to you?” The rapid fire questions were getting increasingly desperate yet didn’t allow Stiles a chance to answer. Thor watched with interest.   
Parish raised one eyebrow in surprise, the Sheriff was normally imperturbable even when Stiles had a mishap. His actions against the Argents were the result of a cool manipulative highly intelligent and ruthless strategist. The Sheriff’s reaction to Stiles call was so out of character that Parish knew there was something major behind it, and had he mentioned Stark as in Tony Stark? Another Avenger and the team mate of the Alien blonde bombshell who was sitting next to him enjoying some pop tarts.  What the hell was going on?

Derek heard the Sheriff’s reaction and wondered if Stiles’s behaviour had finally rubbed off on the man. Derek had assumed that when he was tasked with looking out for Stiles it was protection against the supernatural. The Sheriff hadn’t told him anything about problems with the Avengers for god’s sake but when he was making his way through the cemetery to Mrs Stilinski grave after he had been notified by the Sheriff that Stiles was going there and he was to keep an eye on him, he had overheard Stark’s words and Stiles’ response. He had seen the same shade of eye colour in Stark and Stiles. He didn’t know what the actual story was, but it didn’t really matter. The Sheriff was Stiles’ father and the kid adored him. Shit Stiles had lied to the damn man for months about the chaotic and dangerous supernatural insanity in Beacon Hills just to keep him safe. Whatever Stark’s reasoning, and wasn’t the guy supposed to be some sort of genius, turning up with his pack of lycra clad assholes and allowing them to frighten the kid was a big mistake. One the Iron Man was going to live to regret if he wasn’t already, judging by the Sheriff’s tone of voice. The Sheriff was freaking dangerous and he didn’t need any gimmicks, superpowers or secret agencies.

“Dad, let me get a word in” Stiles gave a weak laugh, appreciating the irony of what he had just said and he heard an answering snort of amusement from his Dad.  
“I’m with Derek, you know Derek Hale? He got me out of there” There was a pause then Stiles offered “Stark wasn’t alone, he had some of the Avengers with him and the Black Widow, she tried to make me go with them Dad, well they all did towards the end but Mrs Oakley was there and she and Derek stopped them” there was a sound suspiciously like a sob before Stiles carried on “Derek’s bringing me to you Dad, and they are following. What are we going to do?”

The Sheriff listened to his son’s voice become more fearful as he relayed the events and his rage grew.

“Stiles, you are safe with Derek. No one is going to take you away from me. You come straight here and we will deal with this kiddo”

By the time Tony had parked his roadster in the Station parking lot, Jarvis had supplied full information on Mrs Eleanor Oakley retired teacher, widow and great grandmother extraordinaire, the disturbing story of Derek Hale’s life to date and Bruce Banner had interrupted their conversation and told him in no uncertain terms that he would be a complete moron if he allowed anyone to take Genim away from the Sheriff unless the kid was in imminent and present danger from the man.

He glanced curiously at the madly abandoned white SUVs that he presumed had something to do with Coulson and his gang. He was incredibly pissed off at everyone right now, especially SHIELD, the vehicles that the rest of the team had used were all parked and they were waiting for him outside the entrance. That sweet ride the Camaro was empty, with no sign of its hot growly driver or his young passenger with the Stark DNA.   
Another presumption, but they could paint him yellow, give him dungarees and call him a freaking minion if the kid wasn’t already crying on the shoulder of his infamous assassin alternative father. Damage limitation time. Well he was good at that, he could have the board of Stark Industries bending over backwards to tie his shoelaces if he put his mind to it, but then again they loved the fact he made them money. He had to take the personal out of this. He had to find a way to get them both to be reasonable. Hmmm. Let’s see how that conversation was going to start. “Well Sheriff my team mates decided to kidnap the kid, frighten him half to death and then follow him to his father in the hopes of intimidating the man they believed had put the kid in danger because he was the infamous Scimitar. Oh Genim what’s that, you didn’t know that the man who brought you up saved your unborn life after being contracted to kill your Mom, one of many in a highly successful murderous career?” That was so going to go down well. Like a helicarrier with defunct engines. And Pepper thought the explosions in his lab were bad! He was so gonna need his suit for this conversation.

But first, there was the little matter of his team mates. The three Sweethearts waiting for him outside the Sheriff’s station, one of whom was shuffling his feet and looking at him sheepishly. The faint flush of shame across Steve’s cheeks reduced Tony’s ire slightly as did the memory of his scolding at the hands of the indomitable Mrs Oakley but Romanov and Barton were well past due for a Stark diatribe.

Natasha’s face was calm and expressionless, one eyebrow raised as Tony walked towards them. Barton still had a defiant little smirk on his face but his eyes were assessing.

“What the hell did you trio of moron’s think you were doing? Did you deliberately set out to destroy any hope of a relationship with the kid?” Barton snorted and Tony turned to glare at him, “Christ Stark what relationship? You pissed the kid off royally asking him for a hug for his old man”  

Before Tony could retaliate, and by god he really wished he had even just his gauntlets so he could blast the birdbrain when Steve interrupted. “It wasn’t like that Tony, it wasn’t planned, but did you see the way the boy’s body language reacted to the potential threat, there’s something wrong, you know there is. When Natasha called it, it seemed like a good idea to just get the boy out of the situation to allow us to assess the danger properly” Tony could hear how earnestly the man with a plan believed what he was saying but he was watching Romanov. Barton interjected suddenly “Tony, Scimitar is dangerous, don’t care how long he’s been inactive, the guy is dangerous. Your relationship with the boy, well I hope it works out but we can’t in good conscience leave your son with the guy” Barton’s sincerity was obvious but Tony hadn’t moved his eyes from the still silent redhead who hadn’t taken her attention off him. He liked Clint, he was entertaining and snarky, and kept most of his feelings to himself. Tony was sure that Clint was worried about his son in the clutches of Scimitar, there was obviously history there but right now, Tony was fixated on Natasha Romanov. Fucking spies and their fucking manipulations.   
Tony asked coldly “Tell me Clint did you agree this course of action with Red here, because Capsicle wasn’t aware of it was he until it happened” Clint’s eyes flickered to Natasha and then back to Tony. He didn’t say anything but his face tightened fractionally. Not that Clint would ever leave Natasha floating in the wind. Tony’s eyes were cold, and still glued to the Widow but he was aware that Steve had stiffened and was throwing an incredulous but increasingly angry glance at both Hawkeye and the Black Widow. Captain America drew himself up to his full height and coldly demanded “Did Fury put you up to this Agents?” Clint’s mouth dropped open as if he was going to say something then his eyes flickered to Natasha. “Fuck Nat” he muttered under his breath but he didn’t respond to the question.

“Steve, I am going in there alone, I have bridges to build and a frightened teenager to apologise to, so you keep this pair here and find out what the fuck is going on.” He felt Steve’s hand clasp his shoulder as he walked past them towards the entrance. The murmured apology from the man was acknowledged with a slight nod.   
Tony stopped right next to the Widow without looking at her. “If Coulson has harmed my child or the Sheriff in any way including emotionally or you don’t tell the Captain here what your instructions were, I am calling in Bruce, and you can explain this all to the Other Guy. Then I am going after Fury”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the big showdown is delayed once again, but there is method in my madness. And now what is Fury up to????? Does he want Scimitar that badly he will use Stiles to get to him? Things are going to pick up plot wise pretty soon my lovelies and its going to going to be a bumpy ride.   
> So loin girding and deep breaths all round. ;0) xxx


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ma’am my name is Tony Stark, and I am here to see Sheriff Stilinski, I believe he is expecting me”
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> 1\. Spoiler dialogue for Winter Soldier  
> 2\. Major cliffhanger ending.

Tony Stark strode towards through the entrance to the Sheriff’s station with all the confidence at his disposal. There was no way in hell Anthony Edward Stark would ever slink anywhere like a beaten cur. The fact that he felt sick with nerves, something that hadn’t affected him in a long time, was another matter. He knew what he had to do.

He walked straight up to the counter, removed his aviator sunglasses and smiled with his legendary charisma at the receptionist as he tucked the glasses into his top pocket.

“Ma’am my name is Tony Stark, and I am here to see Sheriff Stilinski, I believe he is expecting me”, the words were calm and he gave her his whole attention, whilst Jarvis scanned the area for him and updated him through the coms device.

“It appears Sir that Senior Agents Coulson and Hill and their team are being held in custody for the offence of carrying concealed weapons which is illegal in this County. Prince Thor Odinson is in the Staff break room. He has the company of the Officer who questioned and arrested the SHIELD team, one Deputy Jordan Parrish and also Mr Hot Leather Jacket Growly Guy, the driver of the Camaro also known as Derek Hale. Prince Thor is enjoying pop tarts and relaying a rousing tale about his nephew Fenrir a wolf, whilst young master Genim is with Sheriff Stilinski in his office”

Tony snorted with amusement at the first part sentence, but at the woman’s strange look he gave her a shrug and another charming smile. As she turned away to pick up the phone to connect to the Sheriff, he muttered below his breath, “pictures of Coulson being arrested Jay or it didn’t happen”

He heard the long suffering sigh from his AI and grinned even wider

A female Deputy stepped out from the main squad room, and advanced towards him.

“Do you have any weapons on your person Mr Stark” the question was polite but in deadly earnest. Tony was obviously coming in at the “lessons learned and behaviour adapted” stage of this round of new experiences for local law enforcement.   
He didn’t bother protesting but instead sardonically murmured beneath his breath “Thank you so much Agent Agent”.   
  
As if this whole clusterfuck of epic proportions wasn’t going to be hard enough without SHIELD’s interference. He spared a quick thought for the conversation that would be happening outside of the station but refused to concentrate on it. He and Capsicle might irritate the fu.., er fudge out of each other most days but the man with a plan was like a dog with a bone and he wouldn’t let it go until he had the truth.God damn it, he needed coffee, he was down at least a litre on his normal consumption or he wouldn’t be mixing his metaphors so entertainingly, the image of  Captain Steve Rodgers as a huge golden retriever in a Captain America cape barking with endearing menace at the two discomforted spies nearly made him lose his shit right there and then. He was going to have to buy the guy a dog after this.  
   
Tony flipped to Super Stark mode. He had bridges to build, people to impress, he couldn’t afford distractions even if his genius brain made them last less than seconds.    
Tony beamed at the stern cop as he shook his head in denial, using the smile that launched a thousand press stories and just raised his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “Feel free Deputy.” He flirted outrageously as he winked at her.

For a split second there was open amusement on her attractive face, then it changed back into a professional mild frown, one eyebrow raised at his antics.   
“If you insist Sir, please lean against the counter with your arms and legs spread”.   
Tony couldn’t help it, he laughed aloud “Damn that’s one of the most polite yet direct propositions I have ever received Officer and that is quite an achievement”

Something suspiciously like a giggle was swallowed back and then he was patted down with a swift but professional thoroughness until he was asked to straighten and then told to follow the Deputy after he signed the register.

The Deputy knocked lightly on the door, and pocked her head around. “Sheriff, Mr Stark to see you.” Tony heard the low voiced acknowledgement from inside the office, before stepping through he grinned wickedly at the Deputy “Thank you Officer, it’s been a pleasure.” She snorted, shook her head at him and then ushered him into the room.

Two pairs of hard unforgiving eyes stared at him. The eye colour might be different but the expression in them was identical.Damn. He saw the Sheriff open his mouth to speak and held up his hand “One moment please Sheriff”. To Tony’s complete surprise the man listened to him but all expression was wiped from the guy’s face as he waited for what Tony was going to say next.   
  
Tony didn’t dither, the deeper breath he drew in wasn’t obvious as he focused his attention on the pale faced angry scared teenager standing so close to the Sheriff with his shoulder knocking against the Sheriff’s arm. It was clear that the kid needed the comfort of being near to the man in front of what was obviously the Sheriff’s desk. Tony only just managed to hold back the wince.   
  
Every time, every damn time he looked at the kid he could see his own mother’s beautiful but wicked eyes staring back at him, the same eyes he looked at the mirror every morning. And damn it but the kid had Maria Carbonell-Stark’s moles too. His Mama had tried everything she could think of to get rid of them because they didn’t fit with the image of a beautiful society woman in those days, and Howard, that delightful tolerant husband made sure she knew it, but Tony had loved them, it made his Mama special. He had told her that every night when he was allowed to kiss the ones on her face before he went to sleep. Tony didn’t have any and it had broken his heart when he was a kid. He might have his mother’s eyes but the rest of him god-damn it, was physically Howard.

He must have been four when he had drawn his own moles in the exact same areas on his face as his Mama’s. His Mama had laughed and thanked him for the compliment. Howard had not been impressed, he had told the four year old Tony that the execution and placement were weak, and he should have tried harder. Christ on a crutch, no wonder he didn’t want to be a parent. He was too scared that he would be more like Howard as a parent than like his Mama. Everyone had always told him how like his father he was.

Tony dragged his mind back to the present, though his little saunter down memory lane had barely taken seconds, and concentrated on what he need to do. Tony could multitask like a master but this had to be one step at a time for him to get the results he wanted, no the ones he needed.

“Genim Mariusz Stilinski, I offer you my complete and unreserved apologies for the unfortunate incident in the Cemetery. I am sorry that my presence was sprung on you without warning and in my defence it was not deliberate, as I explained I was only there to make sure the flowers for your mother had been delivered properly. It was not my intention to meet you, harass you, or scare you kid and I am truly sorry that the morons I call my team mates decided to do what they did. You have my assurance as Anthony Edward Stark and Iron Man that there will be no repeat of that idiocy. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me or at least be amenable to future contact when you feel able”   
He paused, then swung a rueful wary look at the uniformed man standing next to the teenager. “That’s of course if your Dad” and he had used the word deliberately as much for the kid as for the Sheriff, “ doesn't have me locked up in a cell next to Agent Agent for the next twenty years”

The grin that lit that infamous face was so like Stiles’ hopeful get out of trouble expression that John Stilinski felt his heart clench. God damn it, he wasn’t going to feel any empathy for the man, not after hearing Stiles’s voice and seeing the expression on his kid’s face when he came through his office door. The boy had nearly crawled into his arms in front of the whole Station, stayed there trembling like a terrified puppy, whimpering something about how were they supposed to fight the Avengers and Tony Stark if they really wanted to take him.

They were going to pay for scaring his boy. He was going to make them sorry they had ever heard the word Stilinski. The Sheriff managed to unclench his jaw enough that he finally coaxed the kid to sit down and drink something warm and sweet, but Stiles had refused to leave his Dad’s office. Like every other teenager Stiles had grown out of public displays of affection with his Dad when he had hit high school, except for the odd manly one armed side hug. That the brat proclaimed loudly was manly, totally manly and completely and totally manly.   
  
Not that he didn’t take full advantage of the Stilinski hug when they were in private. John had the sudden painful realisation that he should have been aware of what was happening with his kid ages ago because Stiles had just stopped swooping in on him for the said hugs, right about the time when he and all his Deputies were working round the clock to try to find out what had happened to Laura Hale. God damn it. He had been too distracted and exhausted to notice.  The added guilt kept the rage simmering nicely beneath the surface. But he wasn’t going to freak his kid out anymore by losing it in front of him.

Stiles stared at Stark open mouthed. Damn the man, he was still riled up and totally on board with blaming the creepy arrogant bastard for everything up to and including global warming and then he came in to his Dad’s office and apologised like he really meant it.  
Not only that but he apologised to Stiles, not his Dad. Straight up the man was a shit. A clever manipulative little shit. God damn it that’s what most people called Stiles. His brain shied away from the connections. He might have a hard time staying angry with the guy for what happened in the cemetery but he still didn’t want anything to do with him. He moved closer to his Dad for comfort.

 

“What were you playing at Natasha?” Steve’s voice was cold as the ice he had been rescued from as he stared fixedly at her.

Clint opened his mouth but Steve glared at him, his expression stern and unyielding making that youthful handsome face so much older and more menacing “Don’t Barton, just don’t. This is Tony’s son and unless you know what the hell is going on and are prepared to tell me, don’t try your normal diversionary tactics for Romanov to distract me. It’s not going to work. We are supposed to be team mates” He finished with the legendary look of disappointment that could make anyone feel about an inch high.

Barton winced and closed his mouth. Those Captain America bright blue eyes swung towards Natasha and refused to move. Natasha’s eyebrow flickered. Clint drew a deep breath, Natasha never showed remorse or guilt but he knew her facial reactions. She was feeling guilty. What the fuck? He had thought she was reading the situation and had picked up on something that showed the kid needed to be safe, he had only acted like an asshole to distract the kid but this, this was new, she was feeling guilty. Following orders?

“Well this is awkward” she said gently. Barton stared at her in disbelief before rolling his eyes but Steve’s face became even angrier.   
“I am so sick of being Fury’s janitor, damn it Natasha you could have jeopardised this mission to help Tony”   
Natasha looked down at his hand on her arm and then looked back up at his angry face “No Steve that was your mission” She said calmly as she gently but firmly removed his hand, but Clint could see the tick in her cheek. Steve reared back as if she had struck him. Clint clenched his fists. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like this at all. They were the Avengers, they weren’t supposed to be fighting each other.

“We are a team Romanov, we have to trust each other. What the hell are you doing here if it’s not for the team?” Steve stared at her in disgust. Barton finally spoke but not to the two team mates who were glaring at each other. He tapped the coms unit in his ear.   
“Banner, did you catch all that? Best get the Director on the line. Cap needs to speak to him like yesterday Doc”   
The low rumble of agreement sounded more like the Other Guy than Bruce, but Barton thought that might be useful. Fury would be a complete idiot if he ignored Bruce’s call, as the Other Guy was likely to erode Bruce’s control and come out to play. Then the giant green rage machine would destroy a few SHIELD facilities on the way to collect the one eyed spy and proceed to leap and bounce his way from what was left of New York with a Fury shaped purse across America until they got to this no account town.  

The staring stalemate was broken by the sardonic voice of Colonel Nicholas J Fury “Captain Rodgers, let me interrupt my busy schedule just to ask how may I help you today?”

“You promised Tony Nick, no SHIELD interference in his dealings with Scimitar, you just can’t stop yourself from lying can you?” growled Steve.  
“I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission. This has nothing to do with Scimitar” Nick’s tone of voice made Steve want to punch something. “You didn’t feel obligated to share this intel with anyone else?” Steve continued to glare at Natasha as he listened in growing disbelief to Fury. “I am not obligated to do anything soldier” was the cutting answer

“We trusted you Nick, this is too important to Tony for your stupid games. You won’t get a chance to do this again, you can trust me on that”

“The last time I trusted someone Rodgers, I lost an eye. Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything. It’s called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” There was no remorse in that cutting voice. Steve gave into temptation, he spun with the grace of a boxer and punched the tree outside the entrance of the brick built Sheriff’s Station, leaving a deep dent, then turned back to Natasha and Clint without any discernible rise in his breathing.

Clint took an instinctive step backwards. He didn’t want to be dodging any punches thrown his way, he hated concussion.   
Steve’s eyes flashed but the heat in them wasn’t reflected in the icy voice that continued the conversation as if he hadn’t moved.  
“Except you. God damn it Fury, what the hell is going on with the kid and why do you want him if it’s not because of Scimitar.”

 

Tony stared hopefully at the kid, who just stared back at him. The silence was just at the stage of entering the discomfort zone when the Sheriff spoke directly to the kid. “Stiles, honey, you don’t need to make a decision now. You don’t have to do anything, you are still recovering from your injuries” The Sheriff saw the sharp glance Stark threw at him and so did Stiles “In fact I would like for you to go home now and rest. Deputy Parrish and Derek can take you home and stay with you until I have finished here.”   
  
Stiles felt his Dad’s large hand land reassuringly on his neck. “But Dad they are out there” Stiles muttered anxiously, and a long shudder ripped through his frame.   
Before the Sheriff could even open his mouth to answer, Stark stepped forward, and again both sets of eyes fixed on him. “I gave you my word kid, you will be safe. They won’t come for you or they will answer to me, one muscular defrosted Capsicle and my mild mannered science bro who turns a tasteful shade of green. Plus your Dad is a really scary guy”   
  
Tony pulled out something from his inside pocket, and showed it to them on his open palm. It looked like a small button. “If you will allow me, this is a prototype SI audio tracking device, it links directly to my personal servers, SHIELD does not have access to these. If you are in trouble you only need to utter a word, any word of your choice which can be programmed into the software and the tracking device will not only raise the alert but also work as its name suggests. Its waterproof, fireproof, shatterproof, tamperproof, hacker proof, and every other damn proof you can think of.”    
  
Stiles had backed away into his father as Tony spoke. “No way Dude, you’ll know where I am and what I am doing all the time” he almost shouted in outrage. “How is that keeping me safe from SHIELD and you?”  “Damn it kid, I already told you, it can only be activated by a pre agreed coded word, and I will give your Dad access to it too. It’s just a precaution” Tony had raised his voice as well. Stubborn know it all brat not listening to him when he wanted, no needed to keep him safe. What the hell was his problem?

The Sheriff barked “Calm down the pair of you. Stark if Stiles doesn't want to wear the damn thing he doesn't  
have to. Stiles go and get Parrish and Derek. Go home, eat something and for heaven’s sake get some sleep or I swear by every deity out there I will call Mrs Oakley and have her babysit you until you graduate from College. And you know she will make you take a nap. Now shoo”.   
  
The Sheriff ignored both Stark’s and Stiles’s outraged expressions and marched his son to the staff break room where he ordered Parrish and Hale to take his son home. He kissed the stubborn pouting little brat on his forehead ignoring the whiney embarrassed “Dad”, told Parrish to take them out the back entrance where they normally loaded the perps onto the secure prison bus for their trip to Court so that they could avoid the rest of the Avengers who seemed to be arguing with invisible people outside the Stations’ damn front door. (Maybe he should send one of his Deputies to give them a drugs test, it would make his day to have that bunch of clowns go cold turkey in his cells especially after getting a glimpse of what Captain America had done to that poor tree) and then deliberately slowed his steps on the way back to his office.   
  
He needed to make sure he didn’t lose his temper. Stilinski wasn’t too bothered about Stiles turning down the tracking device even if it was a damn good idea. He had already ensured Stiles sneakers, the collars of his favourite plaid shirts, the button on the back pocket of his jeans and his phone all had a tracker. Unless they stripped his boy naked then he was going to know where the kid was at all times, even if the GPS on the phone was disabled, the tracking device was still in it.

The Sheriff stopped for a moment, drew a calming breath, they still needed Stark’s help  to keep Stiles safe, without actually telling him about the supernatural crap that was going down in Beacon Hills if he could manage it, that was the only reason he had contacted the bastard after all, that and the fact that he had been notified of the death of Stane’s secretary (he had set that alert a very long time ago when he and Claudia had just disappeared. He had almost forgotten about it especially when he found out about all the crap Stiles had been going through.)   
The alert had actually proved to be fortuitous, he wouldn’t have contacted Stark prior to that but once the guy knew about Stiles that was a totally different ball game. One he had to make sure he controlled.   
  
He opened his office door.

Tony was gobsmacked. He stood there watching the two Stilinskis leave the room. What had just happened? Hell’s clanging bells the kid hadn’t listened to him. The Sheriff hadn’t listened to him. He had just wanted to reassure the boy and keep him safe. He would have thought the Sheriff would have leapt at the chance. Was it too much to ask? Jesus the kid was as paranoid as a true Stark. He swung round when he heard the door open to see the Sheriff coming through the door. The moron was smiling. Tony let rip.

“What the hell? How could you let him say no? That piece of technology could save his…. “

The next thing Tony knew was that he was flat out on the floor staring up at the Sheriff who was gently flexing his right hand. Tony’s eyes were wide as saucers as he felt the warm blood dripping from his nose and when he tried to draw a breath the pain was excruciating.

The Sheriff smirked down at Stark. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that you arrogant self-centred little prick Stark”. Then he reached out the same hand that had decked the man in offering. “Now get up off your butt, we have things to talk about”

Tony reached up for the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up until they were facing each other “Sheriff I resent that remark. Who are you calling little?” Then the charming bastard had smirked at him. He stood there, blood dripping from his nose, onto that expensive suit and shirt as if he had no care in the world.   
The Sheriff barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. No wonder Claudia had liked the guy enough to go to bed with him. “Now I have that out of my system, I need to talk to you about keeping Stiles safe.”

 

Stiles blinked blearily up at the ceiling. He tried to stretch but seemed to be stuck. God his neck felt awful, the mattress felt awful. He ached all over. There was an odd beeping noise he couldn’t place. It wasn’t his alarm clock. Why was his ceiling that odd grey colour? Had his father painted it whilst he slept, even the damn walls, they were grey too. What?  
  
His head was aching as if he hadn’t had his medication for a long time, his mouth was dry and he could feel a burning need to pee. What was going on? He’d just dropped off to sleep, and talking of sleeping where was his damn pillow? His special pillow wasn’t on the bed, this bed. He couldn't sleep properly without his pillow. Not that he had been sleeping properly for a while but without his pillow, he had as much chance of sleeping as a snowball in hell had of remaining solid.  
  
Confusion lifted from his brain and fear flooded in as his mind finally made sense of all the data it had received. He was in a hospital room, a really freaking depressing hospital room and hooked up to a monitor. He was also strapped down onto the bed in some sort of flimsy gown. His heart rate began to speed up and so did the beeping on the monitor. Panic stricken he began to struggle against the straps but it was no use. He couldn't budge them. He was trapped.  
   
Stiles opened his mouth and he screamed. “Daddy”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am changing my name and running off to hide in a circus. Sorry but not sorry. Shit just got real darlings. This is the start of the part of the story that had me in a tissy a little while back.   
> I do love my surprises, well I hope this is going to be a surprise but I have left a little clue. Just a teensy tiny one. 
> 
> On the positive side, the next chapter is being drafted and I will try to get it out by next weekend. So um Enjoy the rest of the weekend (backs out of the room very very slowly) xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles, Stiles, time to wake up now, Stiles” the calm insistent voice was accompanied by a gentle but firm shake of his shoulders.

“Stiles, Stiles, time to wake up now, Stiles” the calm insistent voice was accompanied by a gentle but firm shake of his shoulders. “Mmm not yet Dad, just a little longer plse” the words were slurred and Stiles didn’t open his eyes just tried to burrow deeper into the pillow. But it wasn’t comfortable, not his pillow and he was aching again, his arms too tired to move. The male voice just continued, the same words in the same monotone. He didn’t get angry just said the same thing over and over until the words finally penetrated some of the fog clouding Stiles’s mind, and he tentatively opened one eye. The figure on the bed beside him was blurred but it was his Dad. Who else would it be? “Da?” he slurred softly. “No Stiles, not your Dad, you need to wake up now, you need to wake up.” Finally the insistent voice had its way and Stiles eyes were wide open, his mind was struggling to deal with the images and the strange calm feeling he couldn’t shake even when he saw his arms and legs strapped to the cot. It wasn’t a bed, beds were comfortable and this wasn’t comfortable. It was a cot with straps that held him in place. But Stiles couldn’t get angry or even very interested. He looked at the fuzzy figure beside him on the cot, the fair hair seemed to sparkle in the overhead strip light and so did the gold rims of the glasses that framed the intense indigo eyes staring down at him.

“Peter?” Stiles queried blinking at him, “No Stiles, not Peter. I’m your Doctor don’t you remember? “There was a sad sigh from the man and then the Doctor continued, his voice warm and compassionate. “No of course you don’t remember my dear boy, that’s why you are here. That’s why your poor father left you in our care, because you don’t remember. He brought you here to have tests done Stiles because he is so worried about you. You are in hospital young man, and we have had this conversation many times. I have to remind you that you can’t see your father for the first seventy two hours because of the procedures we need to carry out. We agreed this when your Dad left you to our care. So you just relax Stiles, let me take care of everything and then as soon as the tests are completed you can see your Dad. That’s not long is it? Only seventy two hours and you can see your Dad again Stiles. Now be a good boy and we can get these tests done.”

Stiles was so tired, he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight but he could do this and then he could see Dad. He hated to worry his Dad. Something nagged at him in the back of his mind. Something was screaming at him but he didn’t understand why. He focused on what was most important, he would worry about it all later, when he felt more awake “I see Dad?” he murmured hopefully. The Doctor leant over and patted his hand. “Of course dear boy, as soon as we have done all the tests you can see your Dad” Stiles could feel his eyes closing but he smiled at the Doctor in gratitude, “kay” he managed to get out before his eyes closed once again. The Doctor’s elegant hand stroked a stray wisp of hair out of the boy’s face and watched him for a few seconds. Then he held out the same hand and a syringe was laid across it. “Confirm the total dosage to date for me please?” he queried lightly as the nurse beside him swabbed at Stiles right arm with an antibacterial wipe. “Sharp scratch Stiles” the Nurse said before the Doctor gently pressed the needle into the cleaned area and emptied the contents of the syringe into the boy’s arm.  Stiles let out a whimper of discomfort as the medication was pushed into his upper arm and he received a gentle absentminded pat on his head from the Doctor.

“This is the tenth daily 0.5ml injection Sir” The nurse confirmed as he bent to clear the debris and popped the now empty syringe into the bright yellow sharps disposal box.

“Thank you Nurse Savin, usual observations please, and if the reactions are still not within the desired parameters we will increase the dosage tomorrow to 0.75ml”

“Of course Doctor” the Nurse nodded gravely as they exited the room together. Then as he shut the door behind them, he looked at the Doctor and raised his eyebrow “Do we have the time to mollycoddle the boy?” The Doctor glared at him with menace and the Nurse flinched but stood his ground and even raised his chin in slight defiance, then the Doctor smiled with deep malicious satisfaction “My dear Eric, we will make the time. They don’t know where he is. It has taken me a very long time to track him down and he is a unique specimen who will give us all the answers we have been searching for or he will die trying”

The click of the lock was loud in the deserted corridor.

 

“Ten days Stark, ten fucking days” The Sheriff’s voice was calm, so was his pale exhausted face but his eyes, his blue eyes portrayed such a furious swirl of emotion, fear and hate that it made Tony instinctively tap his wrist band to make sure they were still functional. If the Sheriff lost it, he wanted to be covered by his suit as fast as possible. Tony felt no embarrassment about the instinctive movement even though he had belatedly realised that they were speaking on a screen courtesy of JARVIS. They were not in the same room even though they were in the same state. Tony had left Beacon Hills because he needed better access to his equipment and JARVIS, so he was at the Malibu estate. He needed access because he was going to find Fury and dangle him over the opening to Hell with a concrete block tied to his legs unless Fury told them what was behind Romanoff’s failed attempt to get the boy. The untrustworthy bastard had disappeared into the layers of SHIELD like some rat in a worldwide sewer system. Well Tony was going to flush the rodent out if it was the last thing he did.  

They had found Hale and the Deputy deeply unconscious in the Sheriff’s house. Parrish flat out on the floor in the kitchen, a bump on his head where he must have hit the counter on his way down until he was lying in a pool of cold coffee from the shattered mug beside him and Hale slumped half on and half off the couch in the living room. Stiles bedroom had been empty, his clothes had been dropped in the bedroom where he had kicked off his sneakers and just tumbled straight into bed. The front door had been closed, all the windows were shut and there had been no sign of any break in. Whatever had happened had caught not only John’s Deputy by surprise but also a freaking Alpha Werewolf. Though Stilinski hadn’t shared that with the Avengers or the SHIELD team that had been released as soon as they realised Stiles was gone.  

Tony and the Sheriff had been the first to arrive and when they had discovered the incapacitated men and no sign of Stiles, Tony had called Steve whilst the Sheriff was checking vital signs. As the Sheriff was about to call for an ambulance, Tony stopped him

“If they are not in life threatening danger, let’s try to keep this under wraps, we don’t know who has Stiles and we don’t want to advertise it, especially with the fact the Avengers are in town. I’ll get Dr Banner Bruce here to check them out, between the two of us and SHIELD’s files, which I just happen to have access to, we can handle just about any weird shit”   
Tony saw Stilinski flinch slightly at the “Weird Shit” remark which oddly seemed to stop the guy’s objections before he uttered them. The Sheriff looked at the two unconscious men almost guiltily for a few seconds then straightened his shoulders as he made the decision   
“I hope to God you are right Stark, but I agree only if we get a friend of mine here to make sure they don’t need immediate hospitalisation”.

Melissa still dressed in her scrubs got out of her car just as Scott was getting off his bike, “Mom, what are you doing here I was just coming to see if Stiles wanted to play some games” He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully “or even just talk to me I guess” he blinked up at her through his lashes. She pretended she had become immune to his particular brand of puppy dog eyes (she winced internally when she realised what she had just thought) but there were moments when her heart just overflowed because of her child. Scott made mistakes, he was stubborn to his core but when he realised he was wrong he went all out to rectify it, especially for those he loved, and he had loved Stiles for a very long time. They were brothers in heart and soul if not in blood. She reached out a hand and ruffled his hair, she couldn’t resist it. “Mom” he whined and stepped back, hands going up to his head to pat his hair back into place. She walked past him with a grin, “John asked me to come over and bring my kit. I assume he wants me to look at Stiles again”

Scott suddenly stopped and looked up at the house,  a frown crossing his face as he drew a deep breath, “But Stiles isn’t here Mom”, he said slowly, then his head tilted he listened for heart beats. Two were fast, as if they were upset, no it was more like fear one of them was the Sheriff and the other had something strange about his heart beat, like something was obstructing things but making it better. He shook his head in confusion. Then there were two others, so relaxed and slow he nearly couldn’t hear them. But was that Derek’s? God one of those was Derek Hale. Fear and an unconscious Alpha Werewolf. That was not good. Not good at all.

Scott’s eyes opened wide but before he could say anything his Mom who had been watching his face, ran for the front door.

It was opened before they got there, the Sheriff stared at her and then his eyes swung to Scott. Before he could utter a word, Scott’s voice deepened until it was a low growl, his eyes began to flash and the Sheriff could see his face start to change shape “Where is he Uncle John? Where’s Stiles?”

The Sheriff’s hand came up to his mouth, and covered the fangs that had dropped.   
“Calm down Scott, just calm down, not here and not now” he hissed urgently. The angry order shot through Scott with all the force of an Alpha’s. Scott tilted his head to the side, showing John his neck and letting out a low unhappy whine but he pulled the change back. The Sheriff had left Stark with Hale and Parrish because he had heard Melissa’s car pull up. He didn’t want to have to explain Scott’s little furry problem now, there was no way he was going to allow Stark to become distracted from Stiles’ disappearance by the nightmare fairy tale of Beacon Hills. There was absolutely no way he was going to subject Scott or Hale and his moon challenged teenagers to SHIELD’s methods of dealing with the supernatural, whatever they were.   

 Melissa’s eyes flickered from her son’s surprising reaction to John Stilinski to the sight of the two men out cold on the floor beside each other and being tended to by none other than Tony freaking Stark. What the hell was going on? But before she could ask, the Sheriff spoke softly into Scott’s ear which had him running for Stiles’ bedroom and then he turned to Melissa. “We need your help Mel.” The statement actually came out as an unsure question. Their eyes met and she gave a short nod. “Tell me Stiles is safe” she pleaded as she walked with grim determination towards Derek and the Deputy.

“I don’t know Mel, I just don’t know” was the despairing response. She flinched but moved forward to kneel down besides Derek. “Okay Mr Stark, I need some room to work so shift your butt, we need these guys awake to tell us what happened to Stiles”, the no nonsense brisk assessment had Tony raising his eyes in surprised appreciation and moving out of her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So your heartfelt pleas and death threats have been giggled over but ultimately listened to. And being the lovely writer type person that I am , the next part is up before the weekend. (Had to do something while my poor car was being fixed)
> 
> BUT BUT BUT this chapter was getting too complex so it has been split in two. Not one of my proper cliffhangers, just a good place to separate it. Those of a nervous disposition should note the following.... if you thought the other cliff hanger was bad, just wait until you get a load of the second part of this...... cackles unnervingly into the wild, windy, wet night.
> 
> Getting any ideas yet about who's taken our boy? One big clue in this part but the proper reveal in the next. Hugs xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers arrive at the Stilinski house  
> SHIELD arrive at the Stilinski house  
> Bruce Banner arrives at the Stilinski house  
> Deaton arrives at the Stilinski house
> 
> Tony leaves the Stilinski house

At the point where the Sheriff was trying to come up with a realistic cover story for the amount of people, SUVs and weaponry, not to mention the freaking Avengers, that were descending on his home, the neighbourhood was evacuated by SHIELD agents on the pretext of a massive chemical leak, ensuring that his neighbours were aware that the Sheriff was kindly allowing the clean-up teams to be based at his house.  Stark had muttered something about bureaucratic lack of imagination because it was always either a gas leak or a chemical one with those guys but he had soon been distracted by the reports from his  AI based on any and all CCTV, surveillance and satellite pictures that they could access.

Large white connected tents appeared on the front and back yards like a strange rash. Stilinski watched it all stony faced. He couldn’t help feeling that this was distracting from the search for Stiles even though he knew it was irrational. Not even Scott’s superior sense of smell had picked up anything from the house or Stiles’ room, it was almost as if his son had been sealed in some sterile box because everything else had been left in his room. If it wasn’t too far out of the realms of possibility he would have thought that Stiles son had been teleported or transported like something from Star Trek. Jesus, his boy would love that, he could hear his little geek crowing with delight at just the mention of it.

Scott had been nearly overwhelmed with helpless guilt when he couldn’t find any trace of Stiles, his wolf very close to the surface as he apologised again and again to the Sheriff, pointing out that Derek had a better sense of smell and that the Alpha would be able to find him. There was blind hope in the kid’s voice

“It just smelt of Stiles and the hospital Uncle John, I couldn’t find anything else”. The tears in the kid’s scared eyes stopped the Sheriff from snarling at him when the teenager kept insisting that Derek could help. The Sheriff knew Scott wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box sometimes but how the boy didn’t notice that his Alpha was still out for the count, he failed to understand.   
Stark was just starting to look askance at the boy, that famous glittering gaze flickering between the pair of them as he issued instructions, orders and sarcasm in equal measure to everyone from a guy called Happy to the minions of Director Fury of the SHIELD agency.   
  
The Sheriff put an arm around Scott, led him outside and told him firmly to get away from the house and stay away before he was overrun by the Agency. Before Scott could protest, the Sheriff stared him down “Do you seriously think Stiles wants any of you in danger? I don’t know what they would do to you Scott because of your new abilities, and I damn well don’t trust them enough to find out.  Now go check on the rest of the p… your friends and then see if you can use those abilities to find out anything for me.”   
Scott stared up at him devastated and the Sheriff gave into impulse, he hugged him close “We’ll find him Buddy, now go see what you can find out, but don’t come back, let me know through your Mom, okay?”  Scott nodded his head jerkily and took off on his bike just as the first SUVs were coming down the road.

Stark stared at him when he went back inside but he merely raised one eyebrow and glared right back at the man until Stark was interrupted by another call he turned away to take. 

 Stilinski had watched them take over his home and his life, he would put up with it because he had a better chance of getting Stiles back fast but by God they weren’t going to take over his job too. He had his Deputies assist the evacuation so that his neighbours saw at least some familiar faces.   
  
The Sheriff didn’t know how SHIELD managed it but the press was kept at bay. He had been sure that at least that old curmudgeon Jimmy Tate from the house on the corner would have been spouting his views like the unmitigated complaining old douchebag gossip that he was, (dear god, he was picking up his son’s vocabulary) but after one diatribe about the city council allowing that damn FuturePharm Corp from Texas to take over the local pharmaceutical factory and even buy up Eichen House Hospital, he had gone surprisingly quiet.   
The Sheriff had seen Senior Agent Maria Hill stand behind the fool and mutter something quietly into his ear, all the while smiling like she was watching baby bunnies playing….before she pounced on one for her dinner.  
The Sheriff decided not to ask what SHIELD had done to turn them all into silent compliant cattle. He was grudgingly impressed, but then they did have more resources, manpower and money. 

Hale and Parrish had remained unconscious for three days. Bruce Banner had arrived in one. An inconspicuous pleasant faced man with a mess of brown curls, a shy smile and a calm mild manner that seemed to ease the tension in a room when he walked in, unless of course people actually knew who he was and then the tension racketed up a thousand percent even though the man himself stayed calm. Except for Stark. Stark pounced on the man as if he was his favourite toy and manhandled him around the house spouting scientific jargon and in jokes so fast they made the Sheriff’s head spin.   
  
He was fast reaching the end of his tether when it came to that damn man, what was allowable in his son and even endearing was frankly annoying in Stark and pretty god damn soon there was going to be an unmarked grave in the Preserve which would hold the pieces of the loudmouth billionaire genius and his fancy roadster.  Bruce had watched their interaction for some time and then come to stand quietly beside the tense Sheriff, passing him an aromatic cup of something hot. The Sheriff raised one brow at the man, but took the cup, raising it gently so that he could sniff unobtrusively at it. “Camomile tea, helps to calm ruffled nerves and keeps you thinking straight”.

The Sheriff nodded his thanks and took a hesitant sip, yeah just like he thought, tasted like hot daisies. Yuck. He saw Dr Banner smile gently which was totally at odds with the low voiced words of warning he uttered next to the Sheriff’s ear “Best drink it all down. I think you need it. The Other Guy really likes Tony, he doesn’t take kindly to threats to him, actual or not”.

Nothing woke the two men up. Even when the Sheriff had dragged Deaton in to see Derek, the Druid had been baffled as to the cause but he reassured the Sheriff that they would wake up at some point. Banner had raised one eyebrow at being told the man was the local vet but no other objections. He had just assessed the Sheriff, the Vet and the prone man with unfathomable dark eyes, stepped carefully into the background and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Stark had been more voluble and irate. “What the hell Stilinski?” he had ground out, but the Sheriff had unceremoniously shoved him into the kitchen with the sharp reminder that nothing Stark had arranged so far had worked. 

The silence in the vehicle was deafening. Clint kept his face impassive but he couldn’t avoid watching Steve and Natasha in horrified fascination. Steve looked like he had swallowed a damn wasp’s nest and was internally digesting it whilst to Clint’s secret dismay Natasha’s normally expressionless face had a hint of bitter smugness.

“Steve” Clint began, he had to try to get them over this somehow, but the good Captain just made a swift cutting motion with his hand. “We are not having this conversation in an unsecured vehicle Barton”. The sheer rage in the man’s voice surprised Clint and his sharp eyes picked up Natasha’s tiny wince. What the hell was going on? Clint always, always had Natasha’s back but for some reason she seemed to be deliberately provoking Cap.  He rolled his eyes and settled back into watching the two of them silently once more.

They pulled up in front of the Stilinski home, blocking the cruiser in. Nice place, looked well kept at least from the outside. The kind of place Clint had imagined as a proper family home when he was a kid, and he shut that thought down with alacrity. No dredging up painful memories just because this whole situation had to do with families, fathers and sons.

Clint murmured thanks to the SHIELD driver as for once the Captain had lost his superb manners and Natasha just didn’t care. They had left their own vehicles at the station just grabbed one of the abandoned SUVs and driver before the rest of SHIELD had made it out of the cells. Now the driver was turning round and headed back to collect the rest of the team, whilst the three Avengers headed towards the house.

Steve was almost incandescent with rage. He could not believe how badly a simple operation to support their team mate, no damn it, to support their friend, had turned into such a screw up that a teenage boy was missing, two men were in need of medical intervention, most of the SHIELD agents had been arrested and the Black Widow, a member of his team, reporting to him, would not tell him what the hell was going on. Steve wanted to punch something…hard.

Natasha’s trained gaze took in the room and its six other occupants in the matter of moments, cataloguing the entrances and exits, weaknesses as a defensible position and in the periphery the minutiae of a family home, the photographs, the dusty ornaments, the comfortable furniture. She focused on the two motionless male bodies made comfortable with pillows and blankets on the slightly faded carpet, for a second ignoring the gimlet stares of the four other men in the room. She raised her eyes and looked directly into the face of Scimitar, older, more careworn but still as handsome and still with the same intense gaze that saw into the depths of a soul. His eyes were hard with the promise of dire retribution and they were utterly focused on her. He didn’t even need to reach for his service revolver for the rest of the people in the room to be aware of the threat.   
Nerves hit her stomach with unparalleled intensity. She remembered that look. Before she could even decide how to respond, he spoke softly with little inflection “Где же мой сын вдовы?” JARVIS’s translation hit the ears of the other Avengers before Natasha could open her mouth. “The Sheriff said where is my son Widow”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the weekend I promised but couldn't help it Sorry. (Toothache and writing do not go together, well not for me anyway!) I know this is shorter than normal but wanted to get this out.  
> Still not the big reveal but soon, very soon my pretties.   
> Enjoy xx


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Widow stared intently into the Sheriff’s cold eyes and simply said “I do not know Cage”. Rage fierce bright and murderous flooded his system. His fingers almost spasmed with the need to pull out a weapon and drill some holes into these god-damn interfering hypocritical dysfunctional bunch of losers. He didn’t have time for these bullshit spy games and neither did his son. His fingers twitched but he managed to restrain his urge to raise his gun and blow her lying secretive head off.

The Black Widow stared intently into the Sheriff’s cold eyes and simply said “I do not know Cage”. Rage fierce bright and murderous flooded his system. His fingers almost spasmed with the need to pull out a weapon and drill some holes into these goddamn interfering hypocritical dysfunctional bunch of losers. He didn’t have time for these bullshit spy games and neither did his son. His fingers twitched but he managed to restrain his urge to raise his gun and blow her lying secretive head off. He tamped the anger down. Losing Stiles, no goddamn it, Stiles being taken from him, when he had been so careful to try to remove the damn risks to his once he had found out about them, the frustration and fear was now affecting his thought processes. He knew he had to return to the calm professional implacable mind-set that the sight of Stiles’s bruises from the damn beating and then reluctant confession had triggered.

 

“I haven’t been Cage in a very long time Natalia” he drawled her old name out mockingly, and for a split second there was fear in her eyes, the Sheriff relished the sight, though his tone was still smooth as he continued “but that doesn’t mean that you can lie to me and still get to live”. The menace in the quiet words was overwhelming and for a second no-one reacted. The Sheriff nearly snorted aloud, did these people seriously think they were that good that they couldn’t be taken down. Arrogant assholes trading on their reputations. Maybe they should familiarise themselves with his.

 

Barton growled and took a step forward but the Sheriff ignored him. Totally blanked him as if he wasn’t even there. Rogers shot forward and clamped one of his giant mitts on the Archer which kept him in place despite the amazing strength in Barton’s arms.

Rogers also ignored Barton even though it felt like Rogers hand was a manacle which pissed the shorter man off even more but Rogers wasn’t taking his eyes of the Sheriff.

 

He had a really bad feeling about this. There was something horribly compelling about watching the Sheriff’s reaction to Natasha, and it was unnerving. Captain Steve Rogers prided himself on his ability to anticipate reactions in a stressful situation and by stressful, it went without saying that his kind of stressful was ultra-violent, involved projectile weapons and goons, many, many goons. The kind of bad guys who were normally bent on world domination or destruction or any other applicable word from the dictionary that meant “If you don’t do things my way or give me what I want I will have a temper tantrum that takes out half of New York”.

But Captain America was having a hard time calling this one. He could feel the Sheriff’s rage like an itch at the back of his neck but the guy’s eyes were blank as if he hadn’t decided whether to drop a bomb on the lot of them or give them all coffee and home baked cookies.

 

Stiles, his son, Claudia’s child was the priority not his emotions and John reigned in anything that would distract him from his required outcome. There would be time enough to deal with the maelstrom of rage, fear, insecurity and even bloody jealousy later.

Oddly, Stark moved to stand beside him facing off against  Romanov. The Sheriff threw him a calculating encompassing glance. Perhaps not so oddly, as the guy looked as murderous as John felt.

 

Bruce Banner was standing away from them all as if their swirling emotions were some sort of infectious disease but the cold analytical part of John made note of and was intrigued by the fact that the quiet Scientist hadn’t taken his eyes off the Widow.

It must have been the light reflecting oddly from the windows but John could have sworn he saw Banner’s eyes flicker into green. He looked perfectly calm now, so hopefully they would get through this without a visit from the big green rage monster. John had more than enough rage to share with the rest of them without the Hulk turning up.

 

“You have always been Cage and you always will be” The redhead returned with nasty bite.

 

Steve just couldn’t understand what the hell was wrong with the Widow. It was almost as provoking as her little act with Loki on the helicarrier. Was that what she was doing, trying to interrogate the man?

 

 

“Natasha if your delay further endangers our son then I promise you I will take you on a trip straight into the space and launch you there, the same way as I got rid of that damn nuke” Tony’s ice cold words broke into the staring match between the Sheriff and the Spy. Her gaze flickered over Tony and then went straight back to the Sheriff. It was obvious who she considered more dangerous.

 

Something cleared from her eyes and she took a breath to centre herself. Then spoke in her normal bland calm tone of voice.

“It is the truth Stark. I do not know, Fury did not see fit to tell me who, only that there was a threat to the boy from the past and he would be safer in SHIELD custody. It seems that he was correct” she added as if she couldn’t help herself, the cold words tinged with a touch of spite. Stark reared his head back as if she had slapped him. For once he kept his mouth shut but his eyes blazed.

 

Before John could call her on her bullshit, Rogers spat out as if he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “And he didn’t see fit to tell any of the rest of us?” She swung her head to look at him “Fury was not sure if he could trust your judgement in regards to Stark’s new found son”. Her shrug was almost apologetic but her face returned to its impassive mask when instead of Steve reacting to that provocative statement, it was Banner’s quiet calm voice which responded “And you are always the perfect SHIELD agent aren’t you Romanov? You never disobey orders or work as an integral member of the team. Tell me Nat, was it when you heard that Scimitar had made a choice and he left this dirty business behind, that he dared to have a family and a normal life, that it made you angry enough to forget that we are your friends and your family too?”

Her face was stone but they had all seen the flinch at Bruce’s words. “For fuck sake Nat” was Clint’s exasperated rejoinder before he wrenched his arm free from Steve and moved towards her with intent. She looked at him warily but readily accepted the small one armed hug.

 

“Boo fucking hoo Lady, if Stiles is hurt because of you, because you couldn’t be bothered to tell anyone else that some douchebag was coming for him I will rip out your throat… with my teeth” the growled words made the venom in the harsh young voice unmistakeable.

 

The Sheriff closed his eyes for a second before he joined the rest of the adults and turned to face the newcomer. His patience was about at an end with everybody and this was just another added complication. The Avengers had swung round in shock, tensing at the unknown unnoticed threat, to see a handsome teenage kid with a crooked jaw sending Natasha contemptuous death glares.

For a second Barton could have sworn he saw the kid’s eyes turn gold but Stark’s quick fire reaction put it out of his mind. “You were here earlier. Who the hell are you kid and how did you break into the Sheriff’s house without any of us knowing?”

 

Scott glared at the mouthy rich dude and spat hotly “I don’t have to break into my best friend’s house Dude, I’ve been coming here since elementary school”. Scott could almost hear the Sheriff’s head shake even if he hadn’t seen it.

 

The Sheriff pinched his nose and sighed “Scott Rafael McCall, for the love of God, I thought I told you to stay…” but before he could finish Scott held up his Mom’s medical bag. He didn’t look at the Sheriff just continued to stare contemptuously at other people in front of him.

 

“Sorry Uncle John, Mom left her bag behind and she needs it for work. She’s picked up a shift at Eichen house tonight. She wanted me to drop off the casserole she made you. She said you need to eat properly while you look for Stiles.”

 

Two days later Derek Hales and Deputy Parrish both woke up from their inexplicable unconsciousness with no memory of what had happened. At all.

 

Natasha had not given them any more information about this so called threat from the past.

 

She had claimed she knew nothing else and Coulson had backed her up after supposedly speaking to the elusive Director. He hadn’t known about her extra instructions he had admitted uncomfortably after Steve had challenged him before the Sheriff or Stark could, and the normally imperturbable Senior Agent had looked menacing for a second when he said that he hadn’t been informed. Steve guessed that Fury was going to have some serious explaining to do to everyone if he wanted to keep any limbs intact. God knows what Stark was going to do to him but he didn’t think life on the helicarriers was going to be real comfortable for quite some time. Fury could kiss his ass goodbye if they didn’t find that kid alive and in one piece, he could guarantee that they wouldn’t even find the body if the Sheriff got to him first.

 

Stark had told the Sheriff that he would be going through his previous existence with a fine toothcomb with or without his help. They had not managed to track down any leads, hence Tony’s removal to his Malibu estate. “Ten days Stark, ten fucking days”. The Sheriff’s words echoed in his mind and his search for Fury had proved relentlessly fruitless.

He was going to kill that one eyed perfidious pirate slowly and painfully. So Tony Stark, Owner of Stark Industries was already on edge when Pepper tried to get him to attend a board meeting trying to find a way to overturn his decision to cancel weapons manufacturing and concentrate on green energy. The old fuddy duddies had wanted to invest in AIM’s latest madness but Tony had put his foot down or rather he had Pepper stamp her stilettos right on top of their grasping greedy little mitts and coolly inform them that there was no way in this universe or the next that Stark Industries would invest in that grubby little bastard’s Killian’s immoral unethical schemes. Tony had seen the reports that they were using homeless Veterans in their so called trials and he wanted nothing to do with whatever they had cooked up this time. He had nearly given in to Pepper’s cajoling just so that he could actually verbally destroy those idiots on his board because he couldn’t find anyone to physically destroy over his son’s disappearance, when he found out that Happy had been attacked and was in critical condition in hospital.

 

Happy had been barely conscious when Tony had muscled his way into see him, but he had managed to whisper something into Tony’s ear.  Tony went pale, he clutched his old friend’s hand as Happy slipped back into unconsciousness. God damn it they had all assumed it was something in Scimitar’s past, that’s why they couldn’t find out what was going on. Now Happy’s words confirmed that this was all on Tony. It was his fucking past that was coming to bite him on the ass, and more importantly jeopardise his son’s life.

 

Tony was hustled out of the private room by a nurse, but only after he made her promise to keep the tv on for Happy. “Sunday night’s PBS ‘Downtown Abbey’. That’s his show, he thinks it’s elegant.”

 

 Tony took one long look at Happy and then the characteristic flamboyant billionaire went back to his car. The lights and shouts of the press are making him even more agitated.

 

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Our sources are telling us that this is another Mandarin attack. Anything else you can tell us?” Tony ignored the questions and walked toward his car. He had to tell the Sheriff and Jarvis what he had just found out. Though he wasn’t sure he was going to survive once the guy realised that he had endangered Stiles. The Mandarin was affiliated to the Ten Rings according to Rhodey, and had carried out at least nine bombings that they were aware of. Of course the bastards had Stiles but why hadn’t they asked for a ransom or some fucking task designed to humiliate both him and the country. What the hell were they waiting for? And no news was good news right, it meant that there was a 74% probability that Stiles was still alive.

 

Then some pushy tabloid Reporter interrupted his desperate musings and managed to push all the buttons that Tony normally had covered better than Cap’s Shield. “Hey, Mr. Stark! When is somebody gonna kill this guy? Just sayin’.”

 

Tony swung round to face the reporter, rage fizzing through his veins as he thought of his son’s face in that damn cemetery. He had seen him scared then, now the poor kid must be fucking terrified so hell yes was that moronic waste of DNA reporter going to get his answer.

 

“Is that what you want? Here’s a little greeting I’ve been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn’t know how to phrase it until now. My name is Tony Stark and I’m not afraid of you. I know you’re a coward, you've taken something of mine so I’ve decided that you just died, pal. I’m gonna come get the body. There’s no politics here; it’s just good old-fashioned revenge. There’s no Pentagon; it’s just you and me. And on the off-chance you’re a man, here’s my home address: 10880, Malibu Port, 90265. I’ll leave the door unlocked”

 

Tony’s blazing eyes saw the surprised but shark like grin on the face of the idiot he had answered, his smart phone held in front of him as he recorded Tony’s rant

 

“That’s what you wanted, right?” Tony asked calmly before he grabbed the reporter’s cell phone and threw it to the ground with such force that it shattered. Tony shoved his aviators back up his face as he flipped the man off with a bored “Bill me”, then he got into the car and drove off ignoring the rest of the press as if they were not even there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year. This is my Calennig ( New years day gift) to you all. Only a couple of hours late but hope you enjoy it.  
> Just a reminder that no infringement is intended ( I took some dialogue from Iron Man 3) just playing. Also a reminder that this is in no way shape or form canon compliant and I am using anything and everything I want.
> 
> May 2016 bring you everything you need and keep you happy and healthy.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you lost your fucking mind Stark?” The Sheriff didn’t bother waiting for the guy to open his mouth when the call connected “You just sentenced my son to death with your fucking testosterone filled moronic challenge. You might as well have just whipped out a measuring tape to check who has the biggest di..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for angst, angst and more angst and then guess what? Begins with cliff and ends with hanger.  
> So tissues and chocolate at the ready people ( I almost made myself cry! Needed a creme egg to calm down! writing this is better than therapy and cheaper!) and remember if you hunt down the author with ill intent you will not get the next chapter by the end of the week. I promise the next chapter will be by the end of the week, promise promise pinky promise. 
> 
> Take a deep breath and off you go ..............

 “Have you lost your fucking mind Stark?” The Sheriff didn’t bother waiting for the guy to open his mouth when the call connected “You just sentenced my son to death with your fucking testosterone filled moronic challenge. You might as well have just whipped out a measuring tape to check who has the biggest di..”

Tony’s surprisingly calm voice interrupted the furiously angry rant “Stilinski, when they come for me then we will know who has taken Stiles”

“What?” the Sheriff stared in disbelief at the smugly satisfied face on the tablet in front of him. He just wanted to pull out his gun and put a bullet between the guy’s eyes. No-one could blame him, no-one, just one little bullet. That’s all it would take.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dr Banner move to stand beside him, the incredulous expression on the scientist’s face reflecting the Sheriff’s inner turmoil. However the hand the quiet man placed on the Sheriff’s shoulder served both as an offering of comfort and a warning. “For the love of Sanity Tony, you’ve set yourself up as bait” Banner’s voice rose in stunned shock. It wasn’t a question. Tony turned to face his science bro and his smile grew wider “Damn straight Brucie Baby, the perfect way to shine a light under the rocks hiding these bastards”

The Sheriff shook his head slowly as if he was in pain. “Jesus, that’s exactly what Stiles would do, At least I know he got his brand of crazy honestly”. He ignored the strange mix of a wince and bright eyed pride on the madman’s face when he compared Stark and Stiles.

His voice was a low growl as he continued with deadly sincerity “I still want to smack you sideways into tomorrow Stark, and so help me God, it will happen if you try anything this stupid with Stiles’s life in the balance again”

Bruce eyed the pair of them warily then interjected before Tony could say something even more idiotic to send the Sheriff into Hulk rage territory.  “Tony, do you actually have a plan or are you flying by the seat of your pants again?”

Tony rolled his eyes at him, but when he caught sight of the delicate shade of green that was reflecting from Bruce’s eyes, he calmed down and answered him “Rhodey and Jarvis are holding fort at the Malibu house. Jarvis will pilot one of the Iron Man suits which will enable him to scan for all possible information and Rhodey is the muscle. War Machine will kick ass just enough to let them think they have won. By the time they get back to their base we will know who and hopefully where Stiles is”

The Sheriff listened to the explanation with growing bewilderment “Where are you going to be in all this stage managed mayhem?” he spoke through gritted teeth. “I am heading back your way, I can co-ordinate this from Beacon Hills” came the nonchalant answer, just before the connection was ended.

The Sheriff very carefully put the tablet down on the dining table resisting the bone deep urge to utterly destroy something of Stark’s and walked into the kitchen to make a coffee.

 

Mom was talking to him again. It was so dark he couldn’t see her but he could hear her urging him to work harder, to make her proud. “I sacrificed so much for you Stiles, I gave up my career, now please obey the instructions you have been given, you must work harder Son.” He tried so desperately to answer her but whenever he heard her, he felt as if he was untethered to gravity and was about to float away back into the nothingness that awaited him. He lost time, so much time. From one minute to the next. The worst, the absolute worst were those times when he heard his Mom because he couldn’t answer her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t answer her. There were other times when he woke up from the void he saw and heard the Doctor he had first met in the hospital room. The Doctor scolded him, telling him he was proof of his mother’s genius and he needed to live up to that, he had to try harder.

Stiles would sometimes come back to consciousness with his arms held out in front of him as if he were playing with toy guns, and the even stranger thing was that he would be in a firing range, the smouldering remnants of targets floating in the air. All the while the Doctor would sound pleased, discussing heat strength and fire power, until the familiar void came back to claim Stiles.

Every time he woke, his blood felt like lava in his veins, burning, searing through his body, he felt like he was melting from the heat but the voices wouldn’t let him rest, neither his Mom or the Doctor. They repeated the same thing. That Stiles had to make his Mom proud.  
He had to work hard to make his Mom proud.  
  
He couldn’t feel the tears that poured down his face just before the voices started again. In the brief time he was caught between the void and the voices, Stiles knew that it was wrong, all wrong. He didn’t have to do anything to make his Mom proud. He had never had to do anything to make her proud. With every breath she had taken she had been so proud of him. Even when she was dying she had told him she was proud of him. Dying, his Momma was dead. She had been dead for a long time. What was happening to him? She had lost time and been confused too. Oh God was he gonna die like his Mom.  His Mom wasn’t there, she couldn’t be there. It was wrong, all wrong. Danger, Danger Will Robinson. Wrong. As he struggled to remember the tears would start to fall, and in a heartbeat the voices would start over again. “Make me proud Son” “Make your mother proud Stiles”…

Of course Stiles would work hard to make his Mom proud. She had given everything up for him.  

 

Scott had taken his time going home. He knew the Sheriff was going to be there to share a meal because his Mom had insisted. The Sheriff looked beat down with worry but there was a dangerous look in his eye whenever he caught sight of that Stark guy and the rest of the Avengers. But especially that Stark guy.  
Scott reckoned that the poor guy would need someone to talk to, and he and his Mom had been friends for years. Scott was nearly losing his mind with worry about Stiles, so the poor Sheriff must be really suffering. His Mom always knew how to say the right thing, so Scott had tried to stay away as long as possible so the Sheriff could unburden himself to his mom.

His Mom and the Sheriff seemed to have already started their meal, which was good because Scott wasn’t sure that the Sheriff was eating properly either and he knew Stiles was going to be so pissed at his Dad, because Stiles was coming home, he was and Scott would go werewolf on the next douchebag’s ass who told him otherwise.

He could hear his Mom talking gently as they ate, obviously trying to give the Sheriff something else to focus on. “So I took a couple of agency shifts at Eichen House, good money and every little bit helps towards Scott’s college funds. That company FuturePharm Corp bought it outright last year. Well they are better known as AIM I guess. FuturePharm Corp is the holding corporation”

Scott had just moved towards the dining room when he saw the expression on the Sheriff’s face as the man looked up from his meal and stared blankly at Scott’s Mom.  
The hairs on the back of Scott’s neck stood on end. He moved on instinct towards his mother, the danger in the air was palpable, Scott and his Wolf wanted between the Sheriff and his Mom even though the guy hadn’t made any threatening moves towards her and Scott couldn’t believe that he ever would. But it was as if the Sheriff hadn’t seen him. He was focused on Melissa as if she held all the answers to the universe.

“AIM own Eichen House”, the Sheriff repeated in a monotone, “AIM, Advanced Idea Mechanics, Killian Aldritch owns Eichen House?” His next words didn’t make sense “God damn it, It wasn’t mine or Stark’s past. It was Claude’s”

Scott darted a frantic confused look at his equally perplexed mother. Melissa reached forward and took one of the Sheriff’s hands “John, what’s the matter? What did I say to upset you?”

In the blink of an eye, the Sheriff seemed to be suffused with both a burning rage and ice cold determination.  He squeezed her hand gently before he stood up. “Mel thank you, I know where Stiles is now”

He turned to Scott, “Tell Derek Eichen House, tell him to be there in half an hour”.

He ignored both Scott and Melissa’s urgent calls for him to explain, and strode out of the door. He pulled out his cell “Stark, its Eichen House. Stiles is at Eichen House. AIM have him”

 

Colonel James Rhodes stared in disbelief at the ruins of the Stark Estate in Malibu. Half of the damn thing was in the sea. The odd thought that Tony was going to be prosecuted for water pollution almost made him laugh hysterically. He and Jarvis had put up a damn good fight but made sure that the fighter helicopters had seemingly won. Jarvis had allowed one suit he had been operating to be sent plummeting to its supposed destruction into the ocean right after the missiles had destroyed the cliff top residence and most of the cliff. 

They wanted the assailants to believe they had won after all. Winning tended to make humans careless, as Sir had shown Jarvis many times over the years.  
  
Rhodey had chased the bastards off when they realised that he was War Machine. Or rather when he broadcast to them that he had summoned a freaking flock of F15s which were loaded for bear and heading towards that location to deal with them.

Jarvis had managed to hack the helicopter coms and had left a tracking device on the lead helicopter.

“Sir, I believe the organisation responsible for the destruction of the Malibu residence is AIM. I also believe the late Mrs Stilinski AKA Maya Hansen worked for that organisation at the time of the contracted kill order. She was working there when Scimitar met her” 

 

Hawkeye swung smoothly and silently out of the duct pipe into the darkened lab. The emergency lightning flickered and the shadows danced. The half destroyed room was empty.

He could hear Banner’s voice as he relayed everyone’s status and positions. They hadn’t allowed Hulk out to play because despite the super creeps’ underground lair and laboratories, this was still a god damn hospital and they weren’t sure that SHIELD had evacuated everyone from the legit wards. Hulk bless his green rage filled enormous heart would definitely add to the challenge of an emergency evac, what with the destruction of the building and smashing of all bad guys. That pounding to pulp thing tended to get in the way of any organised activity.  
Tony was hacking AIM’s network as fast as Ironman’s fingers would allow him. Clint grinned at the image, he knew damn well Tony only needed to stick a super-secret Stark doohiccy into a random AIM computer and Jarvis would run riot over the top of any security protocols.  
In fact Jarvis had directed them to the lower levels and then Tony had silenced the communication as if he had heard something he didn’t want to pass on. Steve had glanced at the Sheriff, whose face had turned to granite and had just bitten out Starks’ name as if it was a curse then asked the words that made all their hearts freeze. “Is he dead?” They could literally see the Sheriff bracing himself for the answer.  
“God no John” Tony had gasped out with sincere shock, using the man’s name for the first time “No, he’s alive, but what they have been doing to him, it…,” they could all hear Tony clench his teeth and draw a deep breath before he continued grimly “We will deal with it when we have him safe, we can’t afford to be distracted right now”.  
Jarvis’s voice had interrupted, and if Clint didn’t know better, he could have sworn there was a vicious satisfaction in the AI’s tone. “It appears that Mr Aldritch himself and several of his assistants are still on the premises Sir”

Captain America’s commanding voice made short work of the orders to proceed, setting Natasha on Aldritch specifically with the direct warning “ We need that man alive Nat, to find out what they have done to the kid” Those famous blue eyes were apologetic but determined as they took in the expression on the Sheriff’s face. But the Sheriff only nodded in silent agreement.

Hawkeye had been given the task of recon via the duct pipes, because the cameras were down and Stark was having problems finding the kid’s position. They were having to do it the old fashioned way room by damn room in the half destroyed building and it was making his skin crawl with nerves. Hawkeye always trusted his instincts and he knew that they needed to get to the kid sooner rather than later.  The frown began to take over his normally impassive mission façade. God knows what the kid’s father was feeling.  
Hawkeye was still expecting the guy to put a bullet right between Stark’s eyes, and if Iron Man didn’t pull his finger out and come up with the technological magic he was so proud of, then he better be prepared to use his repulsors on the Sheriff because the man was near to freaking out and turning mass murderer on their asses.

Hawkeye moved back towards the air duct when he heard the sound. It was like a faint drumming. His bow was off his shoulder and ready to be used before he drew his next breath. He stalked towards the back of the room, eyes taking in everything, skirting bits of wall and machinery, where the wall appeared to have a crack in it. Hawkeye whispered “Code Red, unknown in lab 14a, east wing. Investigating now.” The almost silent words were picked up perfectly by the Stark coms device.

Hawkeye slid the concealed door open cautiously. The room appeared to have been hit by bolts of energy. If he didn’t know that Thor was on protection duty with Banner, he would have thought the god had let rip with that mad hammer of his.

He could still hear the drumming sound and it was getting louder, Clint turned his head and the kid was there, in one of the damn flimsy hospital gowns, heels pound into the floor, body cramping, back arched as the strength of the fit he was enduring shook him like a rat in the mouth of terrier. Clint had never seen anything like it and he couldn’t draw enough air into his own lungs to actually speak.

Finally he got enough oxygen to shout almost helplessly into the com. “We need medical here now, Stark, Scimitar, the kid’s here and he’s in a bad way. What the fuck do I do to help with a fit?”

Banner’s calm voice telling him not to touch Stiles but to make sure there was nothing around the boy which could hurt him and just wait with him for the medics to arrive almost had him snarling back at the guy. There had to be something more he could do to help. But Banner seemed to understand how he was feeling and continued gently “I know it’s distressing to see him like that Clint but it’s too dangerous to restrain him. Let him come out of it by himself and just keep him safe.”

Hawkeye was a sniper. He had learned patience until it was second nature and he could disregard anything whilst he was focused on his target. But this, watching this young kid writhe on the ground as if he was being electrocuted repeatedly by his own body, hell he had never hated the need for patience more.

The Sheriff was the first through the door, Captain America next and then Ironman. They stared in horror at the kid. A frozen tableau of fear until the kid suddenly stopped moving with an exhausted exhale of breath.

“Stiles” the Sheriff whispered then seemed to shake off whatever was keeping him immobile but as he moved towards his prone son, another body was flung through the entrance to the lab and ended up against the wall, blood streaming from his nose, and lip.

Natasha strode elegantly through the doorway, her gun not wavering from the man’s head.

“Stand up Aldritch” her cool command brook no refusal, and the tall blonde shrugged his shoulders but got to his feet. Ironman took a hasty step towards him and the Sheriff already had his gun out but Captain America’s voice was heavy with authority as he barked “Stand down guys, Stiles is the important one now. That rat bastard can wait”.

For a second every eye was on the Super soldier in shock at the swearing, even Black Widow’s eyebrows were raised. But before anyone could comment, they heard a low moan behind them.  
The Sheriff fell to his knees beside Stiles. He holstered his gun. Cap was right, Stiles was the important one now. Aldritch would be eating one of the Sheriff’s bullets before the day was out, once they had all the information they needed. The bastard who had hurt his child wasn’t leaving Eichen House alive, not matter what the Avengers wanted.

His large hand gently touched his son’s face. Stiles looked exhausted, so pale and ill. Fuck he looked like Claudia in her last days. Christ no, not his boy, he wouldn’t lose his boy too.

Stiles opened his eyes, and saw his father.  There was terror in his kid’s eyes. John wanted to be sick. But before he could comfort him, Stiles begged in a whisper “Not like Momma Daddy, please not like Momma.” His voice was so young and scared.  The fits had left him debilitated, so weak, the disgusting hospital gown was stained with vomit and other bodily fluids and Stiles seemed unable to move from the floor.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” the ice cold rage in Tony Stark’s voice was directed at the man leaning nonchalantly against the wall with an almost satisfied expression on his face. The Sheriff raised his head and stared at Aldritch with the unblinking eyes of a predator. His gun was out of the holster and pointed at the bastard’s head, in addition to the Archer’s bow, the Black Widow’s bites, Ironman’s gauntlets and the gently swinging shield of Captain America.  
“Let’s just say he has more in common with his Mommy than his two Daddies” the man sniggered, uncaring of the weapons pointing his way.

“What does that even mean you twisted maniac” Tony roared but the Sheriff dropped his eyes back to his son in horrified comprehension. Merciful God not that, not that, not for his Stiles.  
  
John sank back onto his knees, his only focus his child, he could feel the tears falling  from his eyes but he made no attempt to wipe them away as he murmured, voice almost too soft for the rest of them to hear without Jarvis amplifying the sound through their com devices  
“Daddy’s got you baby boy Daddy’s going to make it all better” as the man slipped his arms around the prone teenager, drew him close to his chest and began to rock him as gently as he would an infant.  
  
Something about the tone of the Sheriff’s voice had Tony turn his head frantically. His movement caught the attention of the rest of the team and they stared at the man and boy. To their absolute horror they saw John raise his arm and gently put the gun to Stiles’s neck. Stiles didn’t even flinch. Hawkeye calculated the trajectory by instinct and he knew when the rest of the team realised the same thing, the bullet wouldn’t only take out the kid, his father would be going with him. In the boy’s eyes there was no fear, just love and trust as he relaxed against his father’s warmth.

“No, John, No don’t please. Fuck, no John”. Tony was cold with intense fear. He saw Natasha move stealthily forward and shook his head. “John I can help him, I can save him. John, John fucking listen to me”.  
  
The Sheriff raised his head and seemed to be looking at Ironman but Tony knew he wasn’t really there. The Sheriff’s mind had turned inward as if caught like a fly in amber amongst his memories. His voice was unnaturally calm, at peace with his decision.  
  
“It was so cruel Stark, what Claude suffered. So fucking cruel. I can’t watch him go through that. Not after I saw what it did to his mother. He knows, Stark, he knows what’s waiting for him and he’s scared.  I won’t, I can’t let him suffer like that.”  
  
There was pity in the Sheriff's eyes as he stared at his son's biological father but his face only held implacable determination "I'm sorry you didn't get to know him better Tony, he's always been an infuriating amusing little shit but he loves with all his heart, and if he loves you he will do anything for you up to and including helping you bury the body and creating your alibi." The Sheriff pressed a loving kiss to Stiles head.

Stiles whimpered again "Not like Momma Daddy, Not like Momma". The Sheriff pressed his son close and rested his own head on the boy's hair.  
  
" Daddy's got you baby boy Daddy's going to make it all better". He murmured lovingly as his finger began to tighten on the trigger.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here be Werewolves..........

Tony saw the awful truth in the Sheriff’s face. Dear God he would fly a hundred nukes into space rather than deal with this horrifying knowledge. He could feel the breath lock up inside his own body. The man’s eyes were dead already.   
Tony thudded to his armoured knees in front of the Sheriff and nearly comatose boy.   
  
No, failure was not an option, it was never an option for Tony Stark. Right now he didn’t have the luxury of succumbing to his emotions. There had to be a way to deal with this. Tony lifted the face plate on the red and gold suit, and Stilinski’s blank eyes stared into the face of what looked like an older version of a scared desperately determined Stiles. The Sheriff drew a deep breath. Something hurt deep in his chest. He could almost imagine his boy at Stark’s age, even though neither of them would live to see it.   
  
Those same eyes as his son were screaming at him, even though Stark’s voice was snake oil smooth, negotiating, looking for weak spots, refusing to give up, refusing to understand, refusing to believe this was necessary. A detached part of the Sheriff’s brain hoped that Scott was nowhere near to see what was going to happen. Then Stark’s voice jolted him out of the odd peaceful calm.  
  
“I can save him John, I am Tony fucking Stark, I am a genius and I am richer than God. Bruce will help. Dr Banner. Two geniuses for the price of one.  I will save him John. Please don’t do this to our boy. Give him a chance. I will save him. If you do this Maya will kick your ass in the afterlife. Maya would want you to save her son John. Fuck, listen to me man. I will save him.”

The desperation in Stark’s words broke through the ice cold shell of determination surrounding Stilinski and for a second he closed his eyes, tears falling unheeded. Did they have a chance to save Stiles? Stark was a genius but he wasn’t God. Could he deny his baby boy the chance? Claudia had suffered and he didn’t, couldn’t let Stiles suffer like that. But was there a way to stop this. Dear God he didn’t know what to do.  
  
An eternity of agonised waiting and then Tony could draw breath again into his starving lungs because those fierce implacable eyes stared straight in his own.   
“If he dies Stark” the man bit out, the warning was harder and more unyielding than the metal in Captain America’s shield.

Tony glared right back at him. “If he dies you can take me with you” he vowed. “But I will save him and then we talk joint custody not just visitation rights you possessive bastard”

The laugh that was startled out of the Sheriff shocked him as much as the rest of the people in the room. Still keeping Stiles close to his chest, he slowly and carefully put the safety on the gun, lowered it to the floor beside him and slid it away, far enough not to be a temptation.

But before they could move, before they could do anything Stiles began to shake in his father’s arms. His body rigid and his eyes rolled back in his head as he vibrated like a damn tuning fork.   
“What the fuck” Tony growled, he felt sick at the sight of his helpless kid in the grip of those tremors that rocked his weakened body.  He could hear Steve’s voice on the coms, “Blast you, where is the damn medical evac” he roared at the hapless SHIELD minion who was liaising, in full Captain America mode.

 

In the chaos following the hospital evacuation supposedly caused by another chemical leak, no one noticed the pack slip through the corridors, following the sounds and scents of the Avengers. Derek had kept them back from the main fighting, not wanting to alert SHIELD or the Avengers that they were there. Although any idiot wearing the AIM logo was fair game if they managed to escape both SHIELD and the Avengers and get within reach of the pack were quickly and efficient moped up.

“We are following the Sheriff’s scent remember. Try not to get caught. Our first priority is Stiles and the Sheriff. We have to get them out of her safely. The Avengers can deal with AIM or whoever they are” Derek whispered the order before the pack began to move at speed through the deserted and destroyed building.

 

 The mocking voice of Killian Aldritch cut through the stunned silence as the Avengers couldn’t take their eyes away from the convulsing kid, like a hot knife through butter. There seemed to be a strange orange glow forming around the man’s hands as he curled them into fists. His posture became arrogantly confident and his smile widened.

“I must say, it was an excellent idea to allow myself to be captured, instead of just wiping you out one by one” The orange glow was becoming more menacing as he spoke, and it started to reflect in his eyes. “I would have missed that beautifully touching moment between the two fathers”   
The false sympathy on the guy’s face made Cap want to punch him through the side of the building, then the bastard’s next words made his very bones sing with the same helpless rage he had felt so long ago at the injustice and evil in the world before the serum had allowed him to do anything effective about it.   
“The kid won’t be alive long enough for you to spend your time or money Stark. Maya and I worked on the Extremis virus, a way to allow the body to regrow damaged tissue instantly. Regenerate those pesky damaged cells. It worked perfectly for me. Although some of the other experiments weren’t as successful. Like Maya herself, although she didn’t realise I had volunteered her for the trial. It didn’t seem to work too well for her. Such a shame. But then if she hadn’t run off with my little experiment in her womb, I might have been able to save her. Tony, Tony, Tony. When I found out that she was carrying the Stark heir, it was the perfect opportunity, your DNA and the extremis virus in one lovely little bundle of baby stem cells. I couldn’t have planned my revenge on you better. Perfect incubation, she didn’t even know she had been given it.  I could have sold the strain for millions but then Maya ran out on me. I do hope the ungrateful bitch’s death was painful. From the records of the previous trials, I am pretty sure it was. As for my lost and found baby experiment, unfortunately he’s in the last stages of extremis rejection now. You might all want to take a step back, the reaction tends to be explosive and it will get… messy”

Derek and the pack had arrived just as Captain America had bellowed for the medics. The scents of fear, pain and rage flowed over the pack like an icy stream over rocks but it was the scent of a pitiless vicious glee that caught the Alpha’s interest before he heard the words.

The evil fucker had experimented on Stiles and his Mom and now Stiles was going to die.   
His wolf nearly went insane with fury. His gaze was filtered through the red spectrum already so when he wiped his face in the bastard’s blood it wouldn’t make much difference.

The mocking words out of that unforgivably smirking face were cut off with a gurgle as the claws and fangs of an enraged Alpha werewolf tore through his throat. The orange glow faded from the man’s hands as Derek back handed the bloodied remains and the body flew into the wall ten feet away with a crunching thud. His clawed hands making sure to tear through the body to shred its heart, lungs and liver. He didn’t even need to call for them before the pack pounced blood spraying as they shredded the rest of the body.

“Regenerate now you pathetic wannabee Time Lord dyed orange douchebag” Erica’s gloating snarky words even made Scott grin. For once he had no compunction about tearing this psychotic shit limb from limb even if the Avengers were pointing weapons at them. They had all heard what the bastard had admitted doing to Stiles and his Mom.  Scott actually wanted the bastard to regenerate so he could tear him apart again. If Stiles died because of this asshole, he would find a way to bring him back to live so Scott could make him suffer again and again.

Natasha’s first instinctive thought was that Aldrich would not have survived the flight into the wall from the way the body landed anyway, so clawing the bastard’s throat out might have been overkill.  When she saw the rest of the strange feral children literally tear into that psychopath, she realised that maybe she hadn’t understood the definition of overkill.  
Then her deadly focus was back on the man who had burst into the lab from out of nowhere with the claws, fangs and sideburns whilst his eyebrows had disappeared altogether.

  
The howl of grief and anger from the feral teenager who looked like Stiles’ best friend Scott made everyone else in the destroyed lab room shudder with atavistic fear.  Suddenly there were more furry teenagers now focused on the scene with Stiles and his Dad and seemingly ignoring the Avengers. Even though the firearms, weapons and eyes which had been trained on the AIM madman were now directed at the blood stained werewolves.    
  
“What in the name of God are they?” Captain America muttered, but the wolves heard him anyway. The blonde haired female flicked her hair away from her face as the claws and fangs receded until a very pretty teenage girl stood in front of them, eyeing him like he was a particularly delectable piece of luxury chocolate. “Well duh cuteness, Werewolves” she pouted mockingly at a suddenly very uncomfortable Captain America who actually blushed. 

The Alpha was beside the two kneeling men so fast they didn’t even see him arrive. “Now the guy’s eyes are red” Hawkeye spluttered with disbelief but the bow didn’t waver from the head of the fanged alter ego of Derek Hale.   
“Permission, one of you give me permission” Derek demanded with a growl, voice raw with urgency. “What?” Tony almost whispered as he couldn’t take his eyes off his son, his fucking kid, helplessly jerking in the Sheriff’s arms. He was stuck to the spot. He couldn’t get his head around this insane situation. This wasn’t right, there had to be a way to save Stiles.   
He was fucking Tony Stark and he wasn’t going to watch his kid die. He’d only just found him, he wasn’t going to lose him now because of some failed fuckwit villain.

Derek roared with rage, his fangs and claws prominent, red flashing in his eyes and it cut through the paralysing fear holding the two men in its thrall. “He’s dying anyway. Give me permission”

“For fuck sake Derek just do it, don’t let him die” screamed Scott in desperation. “He’s my brother, I give you permission” For a second, red eyes bore into flashing gold as a silent conversation was held, until the tension left the muscular Alpha’s body. But then he moved faster than even Hawkeye could catch. Disconcerted he used his bow but the arrow missed the Alpha by inches. The other wolves snarled their rage at the threat to their Alpha. A curly haired youngster hissed “Seriously Dude” at him as if he had deliberately broken wind at at dinner party. What the actual hell? The two of the furry kids were moving so fast they were between Hawkeye and the Alpha before the Archer could draw his next breath.

Derek loomed over the Sheriff, and then pulled him away gently but firmly from Stiles. Before the Sheriff could react and get back to his son, Scott was kneeling behind him and he held onto the man for dear life. His young arms were like bands of steel across the Sheriff’s chest. He was unable to move, he could only stare helplessly as his son writhed in agony on the ground in front of him. Scott’s breath was soft and warm against his ear as he whispered apologies and began to beg the man to understand that it was Stiles’ only hope.   
“Please Uncle John, please. It’s the only way. Please. Derek might be able to save him. We don’t have time for anything else. I can feel him slipping away from us and his heartbeat is racing so hard it’s going to burst”

Derek dropped to his knees gracefully and took the man’s place, holding on to Stiles, trying to restrain the shuddering and wild jerking as much as possible. A strangely tender clawed hand touched the boy’s face and those close enough to see, watched strange dark lines snake their way up the man’s arm.   
“I’m sorry Stiles, I know you didn’t want this but you are too important to too many people. I have to take the chance”. The guy’s gruff voice was soft with regret.  
  
To the collective horror of the humans in the room, he ripped the flimsy hospital gown and then he savagely bit into the boys shoulder. Stiles screamed in agony, his eyes wide with fear and his body held immobile in a rictus of pain as if the bite had short circuited whatever was causing the fits.  
Too fast, it had happened too fast to stop, but the rage that spread through Tony Stark was unlike anything he had felt before. The inhuman bastard had savaged his vulnerable dying son whilst both he and the Sheriff had helplessly fucking watched.   
Iron Man’s face shield closed automatically as soon as he fired up the gauntlets weapons, he raised his hands focusing the repulsor, knowing he could slice the bastard away from his boy as cleanly as a master chef could dice vegetables. He was going to destroy Hale. Wipe his DNA off the face of the fucking planet, the same fucking planet he had already saved. He could save the damn planet but he was too pathetic to save his own child. 

To paraphrase his own genius comments to Reindeer Games, if he couldn’t save his kid, then he would god damn avenge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wasn't going to leave you with another cliff hanger but it was a good place to finish or I wouldn't have been able to upload this within the time promised. I didn't want to leave you or the family Stilinski hanging for too long. The next chapter will be soon but not as fast.
> 
> Your reactions have been incredible, I love your comments and I am so pleased you are all enjoying this. Sorry I haven't had a chance to respond but really wanted to get this next chapter done for you. 
> 
> I have decided that this is going to be part of a series because there are a few timestamps I want to include that have been left out of the main story, but I have another major story ark in this as part two. (Winter Soldier in the second part anyone???) That being said we are nearing the end of the first story in the series so I will tie up some loose ends (others will be dangling tantalisingly for part two ). 
> 
> Just a little reminder I might put my poor characters through angst ( lots and lots of angst, I can be an evil person) but I don't do unhappy endings... there is always hope. Hugs xx


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor, adore him for he is mighty and a god and he is the answer when they don't even know what they are praying for.  
> He also cuddles angry little Wolfy pups and makes them feel better.  
> No need to say more. Its Thor.

The whine of the engaging thrusters in his gauntlets had barely been heard when he found himself tackled across the room by another furred up teenager. This one more muscular and taller than even the leather jacketed badass with the red eyes.   
What the hell was up with these kids, had they been eating gamma irradiated greens? Brucie Baby needed to do some research on their vicious puppy blood. How the hell did they fit that many fangs into their mouths? And what the ever loving shit was that weird thing with the disappearing eyebrows?  
  
His suit skidded across the floor, the fanged teenager sitting atop of his chest as if the enormous young shit was driving one of those smoothing machines across an ice rink and then had the fucking furry faced cheek to growl at him while he was doing it. They came to an abrupt stop at the wall right next to the squishy shredded remains of the positively un regenerated Aldritch.   
  
He had to remember to thank Jarvis as his best guy had applied the non-standard varnish to all his Iron Man suits, the one that resisted all manner of gore, including the blood and guts of an evil supervillain, or after this god-damn shit storm his beautiful bespoke designer metal wear would take forever to clean.  Apparently his super-efficient AI was scarily more of a futurist than his actual creator. And Tony intended to have a good old sulking session about that later.  
  
Not that Tony had any objection to wearing what was left of that psychotic nut job. It would be an excellent warning to any other wannabee kidnapping sub humans of the psychotic evil villain genre of exactly what would happen to them if they went after his boy. He refused to consider that his boy would not survive this kidnapping. Fuck no, not going there, the kid was going to be fine. He would make sure of it. 

Aaand that brought him right back to the growling fanged furry giant child now sitting on his freaking chest like a triumphant Rottweiler as if he could actually keep Iron Man down after his lucky tackle.

Tony swung his arm and a gauntlet levelled itself underneath dog boy’s chin. He saw the kid’s flashing golden eyes widen and then he flinched for a second but Tony had run out of shits to give. He didn’t care. Dog boy was gonna get the gauntlet if he messed with Tony again.    
The kid stuck his chin out as if daring him to do anything. Cute. Not. So Tony slugged him instead, and the puppy sailed two feet away from Tony’s prone position before landing in a crouch, ready to come at him again.  What the actual fuck? He had to find out what kind of diet these fanged little bouncy shits were on.  
  
This time Tony made sure the repulsors were activated, he could vaguely hear the sounds of battle behind him as the Avengers took on the Wolves but before either he or the furry version of a baby Hulk could make a move, suddenly all the wannabee Wolf youngsters came to an abrupt stop. They focused all their attention towards Stiles and the Sheriff. Tony’s brain sought a distraction, anything rather than deal with the knowledge that his only child was dying in front of him.

In the confused silence, he heard Cap’s stern voice try to order the teenagers to stand down, but they ignored him.  Who the hell ignores America’s Darling when he is in full battle mode including the infamous “blue eyed stare of heartbreak and disappointment”?  
Tony was so going to trademark that title. It could be a special feature of the Captain America Action figure. It would earn the Avengers a fortune. What was wrong with the furry lunar challenged youth of today? They stood almost mid motion and it would be funny if it wasn’t so freaky, as they stared eerily at the prone boy on the floor, forcing the adults to look as well. Finally he heard the weak but determined voice, “Stop it, stop it, don’t hurt my friends, stop it”. Tony felt his stomach hit his boots and for a second even his brain juddered to a screeching halt as wild hope flooded his veins. Stiles. That was Stiles. Stiles spoke. That meant the kid was going to be okay right? Right?

 

The Sheriff was suddenly free. Scott’s arms had dropped when he heard Stiles’ speak.   
But the Sheriff heard the despair that still echoed in Scott’s voice as he whispered his best friend’s name. He swung his head and looked at the grief stricken youngster. Scott stared at him, eyes filled with tears as he helplessly shook his head, no more words left in the kid.

No, fucking no. His boy wasn’t dying now. Not when he had been given the bite. Not when Derek had given him the bite. This wasn’t happening, period. This wasn’t fucking happening. The words screamed through his mind with the power of a freight train and he lost track of how long he knelt there. How had he fucked this up so badly Claude? How?  
  
Finally he drew a deep breath. No more hysteria. His boy needed him and if he was going to die it would happen when Stiles was in his arms. Then Scimitar would discard the irrelevant mask of nice guy Sheriff and take care of every fucker who had ever hurt his son, who had ever even looked at him cross eyed. Once that was done he would join his wife and his baby boy. Decision made, all he could do now was make sure the kid knew he was loved when he died. A deep calm flooded his body. The Sheriff rose to his feet, ignoring the creaking in his joints and moved back towards the kneeling Alpha who was cradling his son’s body so tenderly.

“Give him to me Derek” he ordered softly. Helpless remorse stared back at him from the Alpha’s red eyes. “It’s not working Sheriff, the pain is gone but his body, it’s shutting down”. The gruff voice continued “It should be working, it should. I can feel it take, his body is not rejecting the bite. I don’t know why it’s not working”

 

Stiles was burning, his blood was boiling in his veins. His skin was melting. He was on fire.

Burning. Burning. Burning. Where had his Mom gone? He had tried so hard for her but she was gone. Her voice had left him and the only sound in the silence was the crispy crackle of the burning of his flesh. Dad, Dad was coming. The Doctor said Dad was coming. He only had to wait for a little while and his Dad was coming. He had tried so hard, but no one spoke to him now.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t think. He was burning. His hands covered his face, not even the stream of tears leaving his eyes helped to quench the burning.

His hands, his hands were free. He had put them to his face. Stiles, Stiles think Stiles. He was used to his brain going off on tangents so he could think about this whilst he burned. Daddy, Dad where are you? His mind felt the same way when he hadn’t had his medication for a while. His eyes were open and suddenly the room popped into focus. He was in that lab again, but he wasn’t strapped down. What were those noises? Alarms, loud pounding.

Hurt his head hurt. He rolled to his side and fell off the table. Landing on the cold tile floor and the shock of the pain and the cold on his bare flesh jolted his brain into focus. The lights flickered and went out. Only the emergency red lighting lit the room. He tried to stand. He had to find his Dad. He tried to crawl when he couldn’t stand. There was a door, he could make it to the door on his hands and knees. He could find his Dad. More pounding, more shouts and the door seemed to be getting farther away not closer despite how he struggled to move.

Pain, burning pain shrieked through his nerve endings, collapsing his limbs until he flopped like an over turned turtle on its back. He couldn’t control his arms or his legs as he felt the powerful tremors build in his muscles until his brain checked out of Hotel Reality again.

He could hear his Daddy’s voice and feel him surrounding him. Stiles brain made a guest appearance into the room but all he could think of was his Momma. He had watched terrified in a chair, alone with his beautiful Momma as her body shook itself apart on its way to Heaven. His Momma had stared at him with terrified eyes as she screamed in agony about burning. No, no, no not that, not that.

“Not like Momma Daddy, not like Momma” he found the words to whisper to his Daddy. He felt his Daddy’s head rest against his hair and listened to his whispered promises. Stiles knew his Dad would make it better. He would make it stop before that would happen.   
Stiles didn’t care how his Daddy was going to fulfil that promise, he just knew that he would.

Noises, voices. Nothing penetrated until suddenly his Dad wasn’t holding him anymore. Stiles struggled to focus again. That roar sounded like Sourwolf. Why was Derek here? Stiles wasn’t pack. Stiles heard Derek’s words but they didn’t make sense and then there was pain, more fucking pain, in his shoulder, driving out the fog and the blankness, making him try to kick deliberately, not just involuntary muscle movements. Sweet baby Jesus on a bicycle, the bastard had bitten him. Derek “I’m the Alpha” Hale had bitten him. His shoulder hurt like a bitch, and Derek Hale was cradling him like a baby. It was too much and Stiles brain checked out for a reprieve once again. Though not for long, this time when he regained his senses, he could see the Avengers fighting. Wow he had never thought he would get a front row seat at an honest to Thor Avengers Battle and then it dawned on him who they were fighting. What the actual fuck? The Hale pack of high school teenage lunar challenged losers were trying to defeat the freaking Avengers while Stiles was lying in Derek’s muscular arms like a poor parody of the death scene in Romeo and Juliette. Shut up he liked Shakespeare that Dude was cool. Old Shakey coined the phrase Dogs of War. Perhaps Stiles would go into history as the creator of “Puppies of the epic Pout”. Stiles finally found his voice and tried to shout but it came out as a pathetic croak as he begged them to stop.

Dear God he felt like shit and every time he tried to move or think or say something he could feel his energy draining straight out of his body. He was so tired, maybe if he could just rest and close his eyes for a little while. He felt his Dad take hold of him again, Derek’s voice an incomprehensible background noise but he sounded so sad. Dude was always sad. Or Grumpy. Or Sadly grumpy or Grumpily sad. Variations on a theme with a spoonful of murderous rage thrown in to add variety. Poor Sourwolf. Poor poor Sourw…

 

Thor had entered the half destroyed building at Banner’s urging. The good Doctor did not want to risk the Hulk’s arrival but he was adamant that the team would need a heavy hitter, His mind might not work the same way as Tony’s but Bruce was still a genius and if he was given enough information, he could make the same kind of strategic decisions that Tony processed through in seconds. Banner was so insistent that Thor could not refuse him despite the Captain’s orders to remain with the Scientist.

The building itself must have had some sort of Midgardian warding because as soon as he was over the threshold, unpleasant sensations scoured his skin as he felt the surge in the use of electricity. Mjolnir was shuddering with distaste, the essence of this power was all wrong, unnatural to the proper order of things. Thor simply thrust out his arm and allowed Mjolnir to go where it willed.   
  
In seconds he was in the lab and though he took in the evidence of battle and a tense standoff with Fenrir’s get, his attention was focused on the distressing beacon of unnatural unhealthy destructive power engulfing the son of Stark as he lay crumpled on the ground. The child was dying from it. The magic of Fenrir was trying to stave it off but the inexorable creeping of the foul bane through the child’s blood and sinew was stronger than Fenrir’s gift. Outraged righteous fury flashed through the Asgardian, how dare anyone subject the child to such an evil manipulation of the source of his greatest joy and his mighty strength? There would be retribution for this abomination and sacrilegious misuse of his greatest power.  Mjolnir quivered in his hand like an eager hunting dog who had discovered its prey and Thor allowed his beloved hammer the freedom to deal with the abomination.

Thor’s voice rang like the clarion call of a sacred bell as he ordered them all back from the prone boy. He barely waited for their obedience, there was no time for courtesy. The Sheriff glared up at him in utter refusal. Very well, he doubted that it would hurt the man, only the child would be affected, and for a time regrettably there would be pain. It was the man’s decision to stay with his foster son then so be it. They had no further time to waste. He ignored the protestations of the rest of the team and the shouts of the young wolves.  
He raised his eager hammer and slammed it into the concrete floor next to the child’s insensate body, then watched with grim satisfaction as Mjolnir steadily and relentlessly drew the rancid orange unnatural power from the child’s jerking body and devoured it with an almost vicious delight.

Derek stared in horror as swirling orange flickers of light were leached from Stiles by that sentient Hammer. It was killing him. How much more could the kid’s body stand. He roared to his feet, claws and fang descending and flung himself at the fucking alien who was going to finish Stiles off. The bite had taken, Stiles was his now, in his pack and he would protect his pack. Stiles was his and he would shred this fucker like he had Aldritch. He leapt at the huge alien in the cape.   
Somehow he found himself wrapped in the Asgardian’s arms, tucked into his chest and cradled with the intent to comfort, an enormous hand gently gripping the nape of his neck. “Peace Pup, Peace. Mjolnir is healing him, as if I would allow the Son of Stark and a newly gifted get of my nephew Fenrir to be harmed by such an abomination of my power. See the evil is being leached from him. Mjolnir’s true grace will repair the damage done, and boost the wolf magic, now peace and patience young one. He will need his Alpha soon”

 

Stiles ached. He ached all over. Had that douchebag Jackson tackled him too hard in Lacrosse again? If so he was going to superglue the bastard’s fancy expensive  Italian shoes together, leave stink bombs in his car exhaust and spray paint his lacrosse kit Barbie pink, including his smelly jock strap. Then he was going to replace his tub of hair product in his locker with Nair. See how long his hair stayed on his head then. That would teach him to mess with the magnificent Stilinski. And even if it didn't there were a fuckton more ways to get his revenge on the unimaginative preening asshole.

Jesus when was the last time he had taken his medication? His head was all over the place and he felt like he was lying with his bare ass on a concrete floor. He groaned gently and twitched his body. Then he realised he was on a concrete floor but there were familiar arms and the familiar smell of his father surrounding him. He relaxed a little. His nose twitched. Derek was there, he could smell the leather in his jacket, then his hearing went nuts with the sound of an orchestra of bongo drums.  What the actual fuck? Jesus did he need his medication? Suddenly the noise dropped to more manageable levels and on some level he knew he was in a room with lots of people. So what had he learnt so far, he ached, his Dad and Derek were in the room with him, his bare backside was on a cold, merciful God it was cold, concrete floor and there was a big drumming band, not a very good one because they were all using different beats, also in the room.  And what the ever loving hell was that disgusting coppery smell. Blood? There was blood in the room?

Stiles brain finally cleared. The pieces all clicked together. Fuck.

 

The Sheriff stared down at his boy’s face. He wasn’t the only one. Derek’s freak out and attempt to dismember the huge caped guy with the Hammer had been the last actual movement in the room. Everyone had stared in various shades of disbelief and amusement as the Asgardian had scooped him up like an unruly puppy and petted him into submission.

The sound of Stiles groans and the flickering absorption of the yellow light from Stiles’s body were the only actual signs of life in the destroyed remains of the lab as everyone else help their breath, waiting desperately for Stiles to recover, open his eyes, speak, to do something to prove to them that he was okay.

There was almost a smug hum from the Hammer when the orange lights stopped appearing. Minutes seemed to pass like hours.

Thor’s smile lit up the room but he still hadn’t let go of the Alpha, he had ignored the indignant growls until they had turned into almost soundless pitiful whining as he continued to affectionately rub at his nape. “Soon Pup” he consoled, “let him regain consciousness first”

Stiles’ eyes flickered beneath his closed lids. But he didn’t open them. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to open them ever again because he was in a room with the Avengers and his lunar loving hairy classmates. Lying on the ground with a freaking bare butt. He was going to rant and shout and convince his stomach that his throat hadn’t been slit. Hungry. Hungry. Dear God he was so hungry. Food. He needed food. He’d eat his own left leg if he didn’t get food fast.

He nuzzled closer to his father. His voice was surprisingly strong if slightly muffled against his Dad’s chest.

“Dad, Daddio, Pops, Noble Sheriff of the County, I need Curly friiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees and I need them now”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had half of this written for a while but it wasn't going anywhere hence the delay while I grappled with the Muse and the blasted cheating cheater that cheats was beating me but then Thor appeared. Need I say more. I was even desperate enough to consider Parrish's Phoenix tears (Sorry JK) but Thor answered my need. Adore him for he is mighty and cuddles pups. Sweet fluff, its a miracle that I have any teeth left in my head.  
> Back to the serious business of updating. The next chapter will be the last one in this part of the series. I was going to finish it on this one (it doesn't have a cliff hanger darlings unless you are getting stressed about whether Stiles gets his curly fries and I can assure you that he does) but I have a few little plot bunnies to set free for part the second. As you may note I have made this a series so if you are interested please subscribe to the series. There will also be timestamps including when Maya and Scimitar first met. I have quite a few timestamps planned for tangents that didn't quite fit in the story but if there is anything in particular you would like to include let me know and I will see what I can do.   
> Slightly bad news is that I am going in for an operation next week so the last chapter will be delayed a little. But this one had to be uploaded to put everyone out of their misery. ( I meant the characters but if it works for you that's great too)   
> I have to thank you all for your fabulous enthusiastic comments and the ridiculously wonderful number of kudos for this story that only began because I was cheesed off at the attitude of some of the so called Adults in a certain show. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and fully intend to write more. No infringement intended. Hugs all xx


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fury, you come near my son and I will end you” There was no mockery in Stark’s voice. It was menace pure and simple.

“Fury, you come near my son and I will end you” There was no mockery in Stark’s voice. It was menace pure and simple.   
  
The Director of SHIELD raised an eyebrow as he bent his gimlet stare towards the billionaire. His eyes flickered once over the clenched red and gold gauntlets until he again met that implacable dire gaze.  
  
“It’s not your son I am interested in Stark” he rolled his one visible eye and sighed with resignation.  
  
“Liar”. Tony didn’t believe he was paranoid, he knew the shady super spy was out to get him and that included using his newly discovered son as leverage.  
   
Fury ignored the hissed response as he returned his gaze to the group of youngsters congregating around Derek Hale, but within reach of the Sheriff and Stiles in the cold clinical hallway.

Tony’s brilliant mind made the connection in micro seconds and his anger increased exponentially.  
  
“Fuck you Nick, if you think you are “researching” any of those kids” Tony ground out incensed as he very deliberately removed the gauntlet from his right hand.   
  
“Not your call Stark, they are a danger until I say they aren’t and SHIELD will be taking custody of them until I am happy they are safe to be amongst normal people”

Tony didn’t notice the way the group of young people turned as one to stare at the leather clad one eyed figure but he heard the low rumbling growls alright.  
  
He laughed outright as he swung his head back towards the group, who were eyeing Fury with the kind of dangerous predatory focus that made him literally think of a hungry pack of wolves.

The expression on the God of Thunder’s handsome face was equally as unfriendly but before Thor could say anything, Tony’s mocking words rang around the room.

“Well fuck you they heard you didn’t they? Do you think they are gonna come quietly for the nice SHIELD Agents Nicholas and let SHIELD experiment on them like that evil prick Killian did to my kid?”   
  
As Fury turned his head to glare at Tony, Tony’s bare fist connected with the man’s nose. Damn it felt good.  
  
Fury stumbled back more in surprise than pain as he stared incredulously at the savagely grinning genius whose eyes were as focused and dangerous as the weapons of his shiny red and gold suit.   
  
“I have been wanting to do that for years Nicky, but when you left my kid in the hands of that homicidal prick because you refused to answer any questions, this was inevitable. Just be thankful I decided not to wear my gauntlet.”   
  
Tony snarled viciously, the malicious gleam in his eyes was unsettling, and for a moment Fury felt fear because he couldn’t predict what was going to happen, what Stark would do next. God damn it he had made his career out of correctly interpreting and understanding behaviours, actions and issues. So much so that he had gained his useful reputation for omniscience. And now his fucking nose hurt.

Tony ignored the shocked gasps from the SHIELD agents and the weapons which were quickly drawn on him, as he turned back towards the Sheriff and his furry crew.  There was no way in hell that he was leaving these kids, including his son to the tender mercies of that lying deceitful manipulative bastard director of SHIELD.   
  
His mind was racing through the possible outcomes and variants, including whether he would be fighting both the Avengers and SHIELD to safeguard the Werewolves when he saw Rogers come to stand beside him. Deliberately shoulder to shoulder.   
  
Tony felt warmth curl in the pit of his stomach, easing some of the tense anxiety. The blue eyed blonde was gently swinging his shield, the sheer bulk of the man oddly comforting and dangerous at the same time.   
  
“Now fellas, on a scale of one to ten, how stupid is it to pull a gun on one Avenger in front of the rest of the team?” the bright and cheerful false bonhomie in the Cap’s voice was menacing, that famous smile reduced to a mere mean baring of his teeth, whilst the expression on his face made more than one of the armed agents take a careful step back. More than one also winced as their gazes switched between the glowering Director, a gleefully gloating Iron Man and a grim faced Captain America  
.  
Tony quirked one elegant brow at the super soldier beside him, but that’s all he got in return was a smirk as the Captain stood directly in the Agents line of fire.  
  
“Your boss got a little reward for fucking with the life of a kid so put those away before I lose my temper and if you think Dr Banner  has anger management issues, you really don’t want to be in the same room with me if you piss me off enough. I hate bullies, I especially hate bullies that pick on kids”.   
  
There was dead silence as the rest of the adults in the room stared at America’s darling in disbelief. Had the man actually used profanities twice in the same sentence?

Tony wondered how many of those clustered around the Director and even the rest of the Avengers had picked up on the revealing “Your Boss”.   
So Captain America was having second and even third thoughts about working for SHIELD. Tony saw the minuscule frown that crossed Agent Agent’s bland brow and the way Coulson’s eyes flickered over Fury.  
  
Tony was sure that there would be “words” in Fury’s not too distant future as Coulson moved smoothly in front of Fury and the wavering weapons to stand before Captain America.

“Stand down” Coulson ordered in that calm voice of his. Just as Steve’s frown became even more threatening, he repeated sharply “Agents of SHIELD stand down. This is not a hostile situation now. I want medical down here for that young man and anyone else who needs it. I want a clean-up crew going through this facility so we know exactly what Aldritch was up to. All non- SHIELD personnel will be patched up, debriefed and allowed to return to their homes as soon as they signed the usual NDAs, am I clear people?”   
  
Coulson didn’t take his gaze away from Captain America’s face as he was making his orders clear. There was no objection from the strangely silent Director.

Stiles muttered into his father’s chest, “Yay, way to go Super Suit Dude” then he whined loudly “I’m still hungry people, curly fries have not appeared yet”

Coulson stared at the kid and a quick scan of the other youngsters had him bite out with long suffering reluctance but both Steve and Tony could see the amusement in his eyes  
  
“For the love of God someone get some pizzas here on the double, and don’t forget the damn curly fries”

 

The Sheriff knew that he was holding his son too tightly, but Stiles didn’t seem to care. His cheek was resting on Stiles head, against his lank hair and he was just breathing him in. Christ his kid needed to hit the showers, obviously the bastards hadn’t even taken care of basic hygiene for him.  
  
They were still on the cold ground after Thor and his hammer had finally saved his kid. He had Stiles crushed against his chest, with as much of his poor bare little butt as possible off the cold concrete and in his Dad’s lap. The Sheriff knew that his boy was probably high on the adrenaline rush of the hammer pulling that shit out of his body and the reduction in pain now that the healing powers of the Werewolf bite was able to kick in properly.   
  
Stiles was a little loopy fixated on curly fries, not processing what had happened, just content to natter into his Dad’s neck and demand food.

The Sheriff knew that there were nightmares, panic attacks, depression and mood swings heading his son’s way. Stiles would not be escaping unscathed from this vicious clusterfuck but at least the kid was alive to deal with it.    
  
Stilinski wasn’t even going to touch the werewolf issue yet but Hale and his pups were going to have to resign themselves to a change in the status quo. Derek might be their Alpha, but the Sheriff was the Alpha of the god damn county as far as Hale was concerned. Stiles would need the pack to survive and thrive so they were now on the Sheriff’s protected list whether they wanted to be or not.

The Sheriff raised his head when he caught sight of bright red material out of the corner of his eye. It was Thor’s cloak which was being held out to him as the huge alien god knelt gracefully in front of the Sheriff and Stiles.

“Here Friend, the child is chilled, my cloak will warm his bones and cover him”.  A short nod had Thor tucking the material tenderly around Stiles. The Sheriff couldn’t let go of him yet, not even for that. He couldn’t let him out of his arms when he had so nearly lost him for ever.

Stark’s angry rant at Fury proved enough of a distraction from his own spiralling emotions. There was still too much danger in this goddamn room for the Sheriff to allow himself to wallow.   
  
He saw the way Fury was watching Hale and the pack, the way Stark was enraged and even though he couldn’t quite hear what was said, he had a pretty good idea that Fury wanted to take the kids into custody.   
  
Stark’s right hook was impressive and the expression on Fury’s face was priceless. The Sheriff stiffened as Fury’s minions drew their weapons, if one of those fuckers wounded his kid, he would destroy SHIELD.   
  
He was about to lay Stiles down and arrest the fucking lot of them when Captain America started taking names. Thor had gone very, very still. He stood in front of the Stilinskis, one hand heavy on the Sheriff’s shoulder as he glared with all the murderous charm of a Viking berserker at the standoff.

Thor send him one reassuring glance when the nondescript man known as Agent Coulson finally stepped into the fray. The Sheriff had almost bitten his tongue in half to stop himself from asking if Fury was going to be a problem for his son, but the Asgardian seemed to understand. “  
  
You can trust Stark to deal with this, he has no love for the games Colonel Fury plays, and it appears that the good Captain is beginning to share Anthony’s opinion” his voice was a low rumble that Stiles didn’t seem to hear properly “if by some mischance Stark is unable to resolve the matter, rest assured John Stilinski, Sheriff of the Beacon, that I will personally make sure that my nephew’s young descendants are not harmed, whilst doing great harm to those foolish enough to try”.   
  
The accompanying smile of promise was feral, and the Sheriff felt his shoulders relax for the first time since he had entered this hellhole.

There was so much left to deal with not the least of which was how the hell he was going to share his son with Stark. He just wanted to bundle his kid into the back of his cruiser and just leave, not stop until he was so far away they didn’t even speak the same language.

But although it had nearly torn his guts apart to do it, the phone call to Stark had been instrumental in saving Stiles life. At the very least his boy had three of the heavy hitting Avengers invested in keeping the kid alive even if he wasn’t sure about the rest of them, especially the Black Widow.   
Of course Stiles was also now a member of a pack of Werewolves, with the teeth and the claws that so easily ripped the enhanced Aldritch to shreds.

So Hunters, supernatural assholes and that pesky meddling Director of SHIELD had better think twice about fucking over his son and his town.

The Sheriff gently pulled Stiles face away from his now breathe damp neck. His hands cupped his boy’s face and gently stroked his earlobes as he looked deeply into Stiles eyes. He drew a deep breath and then despite the stern frown, Stiles could see the wicked laughter in his Dad’s eyes.

“Baby boy we are sharing those damn curly fries”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally the final chapter of Part One. I haven't tied up all the threads yet because that will happen in the next Part, but there will be timestamps for this first. I have nearly finished the first timestamp and have others planned. I will probably concentrate on those for a while because I don't want to start another multi chapter until I finish some of my other WIPS.   
> I have lots more to write in this AU I promise because I love the Sheriff.  
> I just wanted to thank you all for staying with me and your fabulous encouragement, kudos and comments. Virtual hugs xx

**Author's Note:**

> This is a TeenWolf and Avengers cross over fic. Has absolutely no relation to canon whatsoever and I pick and choose the threads I want from both. The summary is deliberately vague at the moment because of spoilers. Also the reason the tags haven't been completed fully. So once I have loaded more chapters and you clever clever peeps have worked out what's going on, I will add to them.  
> The rating may change because there will be rather a lot of violence but not really graphic. Trying to keep it at the same level as the show ( which is pretty graphic really!). There are no plans for slash or sex. This is just going to be an angsty story with lots of hurt and comfort and a really really really BAMF Sheriff. Did I mention he is totally a BAMF? Cos he is! just saying.  
> As per no infringement intended, to anybody this could remotely affect.  
> I hope you enjoy this


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